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WILLIAM    RAND   KENAN 

given    by    his  daughter 

.MAIM'   LILY    KENAN    FLAGLEH 


k'voted   to  the   History   of  the  South   ii 
the    Civil    War 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


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WILLIAM    RAND   KENAN 

given   by    !iis  daughter 

MA  in'   LILY    KENAN    FLAGLEK 


k'voted   In  the   History  of  the  South   in 
the    Civil    War 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


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THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


ENDOWED  BY  THE 

DIALECTIC  AND  PHILANTHROPIC 

SOCIETIES 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://archive.org/details/memoirmemorialsOOpaxt 


ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 


2-  r    \tooLvtKs 


,  I 


5fciemoir  an&  5Uemorials 


ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

BRIGADIER-GENERAL,  C.  S.  A. 


COMPOSED  OF  HIS  LETTERS  FROM  CAMP  AND  FIELD  WHILE 

AN  OFFICER  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY,  WITH  AN 

INTRODUCTORY  AND   CONNECTING  NARRATIVE 

COLLECTED  AND  ARRANGED  BY  HIS  SON, 

JOHN  GALLATIN  PAXTON 


"  But  these  our  brothers  fought  for  her, 
At  life's  dear  peril  wrought  forjier, 
So  loved  her  that  theyedied  for  her." 

James'lRussett  Lowell 


" .  .  .  knows  that  the  young  man  who  composedly  periled  his  life  and 
lost  it  has  done  exceedingly  well  for  himself  without  doubt." 

Walt  Whitman 


9 


PRINTED,  NOT  PUBLISHED 
1905 


THE  LIBRARY 

THH  UNIVERSITY  OF  NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT  CHAPEL  WfU. 


PUBLISHER'S  NOTE. 


P 
J 
O 

o 


Mr.  John  G.  Paxton,  General  Paxton's  son,  had 
this  volume  printed  to  preserve  as  a  memorial  the  let- 
ters which  his  father  had  written  from  the  scene  of 
war.  It  was  not  intended  that  it  should  ever  be  of- 
fered for  sale.  The  story  which  these  letters  tell  is  so 
full  of  heroism  and  pathos,  so  truly  do  the}'  lay  bare 
the  noble  soul  of  the  writer  and  show  the  spirit  which 
animated  him  and  his  comrades,  that  there  has  been  a 
considerable  demand  for  its  publication.  This  house 
has  therefore  obtained  Mr.  Paxton's  permission  to  take 
up  the  publication  of  the  book,  and  offers  the  volume 
as  originally  published  for  private  distribution  without 
change  of  any  kind,  other  than  this  announcement. 
It  is  a  part  of  our  arrangement  with  Mr.  Paxton  that 
we  do  not  change  even  the  title-page. 

The  Neaee  Publishing  Co. 

New  York, 

August  5,  1907. 


PUBLISHED    AND    SOLD    BY 

THE  NEALE  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

Flatiron  Building  43  1  Eleventh  Street 

NEW  YORK  WASHINGTON 


FOREWORD 

In  this  preliminary  note  are  set  forth  the  nature  and  pur- 
pose of  this  volume.  Although  printed,  it  is  not  pub- 
lished, and  is  intended  only  for  distribution  among  Gen- 
eral Paxton's  family,  friends,  and  comrades. 

It  is  entitled  ''Memoir  and  Memorials."  The  Memoir 
is  a  sketch  of  General  Paxton's  life  contained  in  the  first 
chapter  and  in  the  subsequent  narrative  connecting  the 
letters.  The  Memorials  are  the  letters  themselves.  The 
book  consists  mainly  of  these  letters,  and  it  is  to  perpetu- 
ate them  and  thereby  set  forth  the  character  of  the  writer 
that  this  book  is  printed. 

General  Paxton's  career  as  a  soldier,  honorable  though 
it  was,  would  not  justify  its  publication.  His  letters,  writ- 
ten without  reserve  to  the  loved  wife  at  home,  not  only 
show  what  manner  of  man  he  was  and  how  he  thought  and 
felt  while  an  actor  in  these  trying  times,  but  also  are  rep- 
resentative of  his  comrades,  of  whom  he  was  one  of  the 
highest  types.  These  letters  thus  originating  are  a  true 
mirror  of  the  writer,  revealing  his  real  qualities  and  char- 
acteristics with  photographic  accuracy.  Showing  as  they 
do  rare  qualities  of  both  mind  and  soul,  they  explain  why 
he  and  his  comrades  were  able  so  long  to  defend  them- 
selves against  great  odds.  They  also  show  how  firmly 
was  fixed  in  the  mind  of  this  man,  a  scholar  and  a  lawyer, 
partly  educated  in  the  North,  the  belief  that  his  State  was 


vi  FOREWORD 

sovereign  and  his  first  duty  was  to  her.  These  letters  are 
the  material  of  which  history  is  made.  To  the  descen- 
dants of  General  Paxton  they  should  be  a  stimulus  to  hon- 
orable lives  and  brave  deeds.  To  his  comrades  in  arms 
they  recall,  with  sadness  perhaps,  the  scenes  through 
which  they  so  honorably  passed.  To  his  son,  the  writer 
of  these  lines,  he  is  not  even  a  memory— a  tale  that  is  told, 
that  is  all.  At  the  knee  of  his  widowed  mother,  he  first 
learned  to  revere  the  name  and  virtues  of  his  sire,  and 
these  letters,  coming  into  his  hands  after  manhood, 
brought  to  him  a  keener  appreciation  of  those  virtues. 
Ancestral  pride  is  only  good  so  far  as  it  perpetuates  the 
ancestral  virtues.  May  these  letters  serve  to  do  this  and 
teach  the  descendants  of  this  young  soldier,  who  so  freely 
gave  his  life  for  his  fatherland,  that  they  spring  from  an- 
other Bayard,  a  chevalier  sans  peur  et  sans  reproche. 

j.  a.  p. 

Independence,  Missouri, 
September,  1905. 


CHAPTER  I 

MEMOIR 

Elisha  Franklin  Paxton  was  born  March.  4, 1828,  in 
Rockbridge  County,  Virginia,  the  son  of  Elisha 
Paxton  and  Margaret  McNutt.  His  grandfather, 
William  Paxton,  came  to  Rockbridge  in  its  earliest  settle- 
ment about  the  year  1745.  He  was  a  man  of  character  and 
substance  and  commanded  a  company  at  the  battle  of 
Yorktown.  Margaret  McNutt  was  the  daughter  of  Alex- 
ander McNutt  and  Rachel  Grigsby.  She  was  one  of  a 
family  of  eight  sisters  and  four  brothers,  many  of  whom 
possessed  marked  intelligence  and  great  force  of  char- 
acter. Alexander  Gallatin  McNutt,  Governor  of  Missis- 
sippi, was  one  of  the  brothers.  Margaret  McNutt  Paxton 
possessed  the  family  characteristics  to  a  high  degree. 
She  was  a  granddaughter  of  John  Grigsby,  whose  sobri- 
quet was  l  i  Soldier  John, ' '  going  back  to  his  service  under 
Admiral  Vernon  in  his  expedition  against  Cartagena  in 
1741.  He  also  commanded  a  company  in  the  Revolution- 
ary War.  His  soldierly  qualities  were  stamped  on  his  de- 
scendants, four  of  whom  were  brigadier-generals  in  the 
Confederate  army,  and  many  others  were  officers  of  lower 
rank  who  followed  the  stars  and  bars. 

The  Paxtons  are  descended  from  a  soldier  under  Crom- 
well who  emigrated  with  his  Presbyterian  comrades  to  the 
north  of  Ireland.  As  members  of  a  hostile  and  an  alien 
race  their  life  there  was  one  of  conflict.  Later  they  bit- 
terly resented  the  action  of  the  crown  in  compelling  them 
to  pay  tithes  for  the  support  of  the  English  Church,  and 


2       ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

largely  on  this  account  emigrated  to  America.  Men,  like 
plants,  take  on  certain  characteristics  from  the  soil  in 
which  they  live,  the  air  they  breathe  and  other  physical 
surroundings.  These  militant  churchmen  found  an  ap- 
propriate home  for  the  development  of  their  sterling  vir- 
tues in  the  beautiful  valleys  lying  between  the  Blue  Eidge 
and  the  Alleghanies— the  Paxtons  in  the  rough  but  fertile 
lands  of  Rockbridge. 

Here,  on  a  beautiful  spot  in  the  foot-hills  of  the  Blue 
Ridge,  Frank  Paxton  first  saw  the  light.  There  in  his 
childhood  he  imbibed  that  love  of  freedom  and  devotion 
to  duty  which  had  marked  his  ancestors.  As  a  boy  he 
manifested  unusual  vigor  of  intellect.  He  attended  the 
classical  school  of  his  cousin  James  H.  Paxton,  and  at  the 
age  of  fifteen  entered  the  junior  class  at  Washington  Col- 
lege, where  he  received  his  degree  of  A.B.  in  two  years. 
He  then  went  to  Yale,  where  he  graduated  in  two  years, 
and  afterward  took  the  law  course  at  the  University  of 
Virginia.  He  was  five  feet  ten  inches  high,  heavily  built 
and  of  great  bodily  strength.  As  an  indication  both  of  his 
physical  and  soldierly  qualities  he  was  known  both  at 
school  and  in  the  army  as  "Bull"  Paxton.  Dr.  John  B. 
Minor  wrote  the  following  of  his  course  at  the  University 
of  Virginia : 

' '  Gen.  E.  F.  Paxton,  who  fell  at  the  battle  of  Chancel- 
lorsville,  in  May,  1863,  was  a  student  of  law  here,  and  a 
graduate  in  the  Law  Department  of  the  University  in 
1849.  As  a  student,  none  of  his  contemporaries  acquitted 
themselves  more  satisfactorily,  and  in  point  of  conduct, 
he  was  entirely  exemplary.  I  think  he  could  then  have 
been  not  more  than  twenty-one  years  of  age,  but  I  have 
retained  a  lively  recollection  of  him  during  the  interven- 
ing period  of  forty-three  years,  so  that  whilst,  after  so 
great  a  lapse  of  time,  I  cannot  recall  particulars,  he  left 
on  my  mind  an  impression  of  unusual  merit  and  a  convic- 
tion that  if  he  lived,  he  was  destined  not  only  to  achieve 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  3 

eminence,  but  what  in  my  estimation  is  far  better,  to  at- 
tain to  distinguished  usefulness. ' ' 

Upon  his  admission  to  the  bar,  he  spent  several  years  in 
the  prosecution  of  land  claims  in  the  State  of  Ohio  and  re- 
sided there.  He  was  successful  in  this  enterprise  and 
made  some  money.  In  1854  he  opened  a  law  office  in  Lex- 
ington, Va.,  and  married  Miss  Elizabeth  White,  the 
daughter  of  Matthew  White  of  Lexington.  This  union 
was  a  most  happy  one  and  there  were  born  of  it  four  chil- 
dren, three  of  whom  survived  him  —  Matthew  W.  Paxton 
of  Lexington,  Va.,  the  writer,  and  Frank  Paxton  of  San 
Saba  County,  Texas.  Frank  Paxton  at  once  took  a  high 
rank  in  his  profession  and  engaged  in  important  business 
enterprises,  among  others  becoming  the  President  of  the 
first  bank  in  Rockbridge.  His  strength  of  character  was 
shown  by  the  fact  that  at  this  time,  when  the  drinking  of 
whiskey  was  a  universal  custom,  he  abstained  altogether 
from  its  use,  and  continued  to  do  so  until  his  death.  In 
1860  failing  eyesight  compelled  him  to  abandon  his  pro- 
fession and  he  purchased  a  beautiful  estate  near  Lexing- 
ton, known  as  Thorn  Hill. 

In  this  beautiful  home  with  wife  and  babes,  the  drum 
tap  of  '61  found  him.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  he  had 
been  taking  an  active  part  in  the  political  events  leading 
up  to  this.  He  was  a  man  of  intense  feeling,  when 
aroused,  and  had  early  adopted  the  view  of  the  Constitu- 
tion of  the  United  States,  which  came  to  him  from  his  fa- 
thers. To  him  the  right  of  secession  was  as  clear  as  the 
right  of  trial  by  jury.  The  State  was  sovereign  and  in  the 
hot  blood  of  his  youth  he  believed  the  time  had  come  to 
secede.  So  the  war  in  which  he  entered  was  for  the  de- 
fense of  his  home  and  fireside  and  against  an  invading 
foe.  It  was  as  righteous  to  him  as  that  waged  by  the 
Greeks  at  Thermopylae  and  his  life,  if  needs  be,  must  be 
cheerfully  surrendered  in  such  a  cause.  In  the  contest 
in  Rockbridge  County  over  the  election  of  delegates  to  the 


4  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

secession  convention  he  took  an  active  part  in  favor  of  the 
secession  candidates.  His  great  moral  courage  was  con- 
spicuous at  the  meeting  held  in  Lexington,  where  he  again 
and  again  attempted  to  overcome  the  large  majority  op- 
posed to  him.  He  was  unsuccessful  in  this,  and  Rock- 
bridge sent  Union  delegates  to  Richmond. 

He  had  no  special  military  training  and  entered  the 
service  as  first  lieutenant  of  the  Rockbridge  Rifles,  and 
afterwards  a  part  of  the  27th  Virginia  Regiment,  Stone- 
wall Brigade.  With  this  company,  at  the  first  call  for 
troops  in  April,  1861,  he  marched  to  the  front. 

The  pomp  and  circumstances  of  glorious  war  were 
present  when  on  that  bright  spring  morning  his  company 
and  several  others,  with  colors  flying  and  martial  music, 
took  up  the  line  of  march  from  Lexington  to  Harper's 
Ferry.  His  young  wife,  with  sad  forebodings,  wept  until 
her  handker chief  was  wet  with  tears.  In  their  last  fond 
embrace  he  took  this  from  her  hand  and  as  a  reminder  of 
her  love  carried  it  on  many  a  bloody  battle-field. 

He  wrote  to  his  wife  weekly  and  these  letters,  which 
well  show  the  man  and  the  times,  make  up  substantially 
the  subsequent  chapters  of  this  volume.  They  are  edited 
only  by  omitting  parts  too  personal  to  be  of  general 
interest. 


CHAPTER  II 


MEMORIALS 


New  Market,  April  21, 1861. 

I  reached  here  this  morning  in  good  health  and  in 
spirits  as  good  as  could  be  expected,  considering  the 
bloody  prospect  ahead  and  the  sad  hearts  left  at 
home.  It  is  bad  enough.  I  have  no  time  to  think  of  my 
business  at  home.  My  duties  now  for  my  State  require 
every  energy  of  mind  and  body  which  I  can  devote  to 
them.  Do  just  as  you  please.  If  you  think  proper  stay 
in  town  and  leave  all  matters  and  keys  on  the  farm  in 
charge  of  John  Fitzgerald. 


Harper's  Ferry,  April  25, 1861. 

We  reached  this  place  on  Tuesday  morning.  Instead 
of  being  fatigued,  I  was  rather  improved  by  the  trip. 
Here  we  have  all  the  comforts  which  we  could  expect, 
good  food  and  comfortable  quarters,  better  than  gener- 
ally falls  to  a  soldier's  lot.  I  have  enough  to  occupy 
every  moment  of  my  time  in  preparing  the  company  for 
the  service  which  we  may  expect  to  see  before  long.  They 
have  much  to  learn  before  they  can  be  relied  on  for 
efficiency.  I  regret  that  my  eyes  are  no  better  as  it  is 
necessary  for  me  to  read  much  for  my  own  preparation. 
Try,  Love,  to  make  yourself  contented  and  happy.  I 
would  not  like  to  think  that  I  was  forgotten  by  dear  wife 
and  little  ones  at  home,  but  it  would  give  me  a  lighter 

5 


6  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

heart  to  think  that  they  appreciated  the  necessity  of  my 
absence,  and  the  high  importance  of  a  faithful  discharge 
of  my  present  duties.  My  eyes  will  not  enable  me  to  write 
more  without  risk  of  injury  to  them. 


Harper's  Ferry,  April  29,  1861. 

I  received  your  letter  by  Mr.  Campbell  and  was  very 
happy  to  hear  from  you.  Nothing  could  be  half  so  inter- 
esting as  a  line  from  dear  wife  and  little  ones  at  home. 
Be  cheerful  and  act  upon  the  motive  which  made  me  leave 
you  to  risk  my  life  in  relieving  my  State  from  the  peril 
which  menaces  her.  I  hope  I  may  see  you  again,  but  if 
never,  my  last  wish  is  that  you  will  make  our  little  boys 
honest,  truthful,  and  useful  men.  Last  Thursday  night, 
I  experienced  for  the  first  time  the  feeling  of  coming  in 
contact  with  the  bullets,  bayonets,  and  sabres  of  our 
enemies.  We  were  called  up  suddenly  upon  the  expecta- 
tion of  an  engagement  which  proved  a  false  alarm.  Now 
I  know  what  the  feeling  is,  and  know  I  shall  enter  the 
struggle,  when  it  comes,  without  fear.  Next  to  the  honor 
and  safety  of  my  State  in  her  present  trial,  the  happiness 
of  wife  and  little  ones  lies  nearest  my  heart.  My  health 
was  never  better.  I  have  spent  two  nights  on  duty  in  the 
open  air  without  suffering,  and  feel  assured  now  that  my 
health  will  not  suffer  by  such  exposure. 

Kiss  the  little  ones  for  me  and  never  let  them  forget 
"papa  gone,"  perhaps  forever.  Accept  for  yourself 
every  wish  which  a  fond  husband  could  bestow  upon  a  de- 
voted wife. 

Harper's  Ferry,  May  4,  1861. 

Write  very  often.  Nothing  can  be  so  interesting  to  me 
as  your  letters.  Some  of  the  other  wives,  you  think,  get 
more  letters  than  you  do,  and  you  women  measure  your 
husband's  love  by  the  number  and  length  of  their  letters. 
I  will  write  to  you,  Love,  about  once  a  week  and  half  a 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  7 

page  at  a  time.  I  cannot  with  justice  to  my  eyes  write 
longer  letters.  This  will  be  handed  to  you  by  Maj.  Pres- 
ton, who  will  tell  you  everything  you  want  to  know.  Kiss 
the  children  for  me,  and  for  yourself  take  my  best  love. 


Harper's  Ferry,  May  18, 1861. 

My  wife,  I  have  no  sweeter  word  than  this  to  call  the  dear 
little  woman  at  home,  with  whom  my  happiest  reminis- 
cences of  the  past  and  fondest  hopes  of  the  future  have 
ever  been  associated.  (You  speak  of  dreams;  I  had  one 
of  you,  that  we  were  married  again,  and  thought  we  had  a 
very  nice  time  of  it.)  We  have  moved  from  our  station 
in  the  mountain  back  to  town.  Here  we  have  very  plea- 
sant quarters,  in  which  I  think  it  likely  we  will  remain 
until  we  have  a  battle.  When  this  will  be,  it  is  impossible 
to  say,  but  is  not  expected  immediately.  I  received  the 
green  flannel  shirt  and  put  it  on  for  the  first  time  to-day. 
It  is  very  comfortable  and  valued  the  more  because  made 
by  the  hands  of  my  dear  wife.  Present  my  kind  regards 
to  John  (the  gardener)  and  hand  him  the  enclosed  order 
on  Wm.  White.  Present  my  kindest  regards  to  Jack, 
Jane,  and  Phebe  (slaves).  Kiss  the  children  for  me,  and 
for  yourself  take  a  husband's  best  love. 

Martinsburg,  May  24, 1861. 

After  mentioning  it  in  your  letter,  you  add  in  a  postscript, 
"Don't  forget  to  tell  me  where  your  books  are."  I  told 
you  in  my  last  letter,  but  wish  I  had  not.  Really,  Love,  I 
do  not  wish  you  to  be  annoyed  with  my  business.  I  wish 
you  to  be  very  happy,  and  this  I  know  you  cannot  be  if  you 
undertake  to  harass  yourself  with  my  business.  Go  out 
home  occasionally  and  see  how  matters  are  going  on,  but 
do  not  trouble  yourself  any  further.  So,  Love,  if  any  one 
calls  on  you  about  my  matters,  tell  them  my  instructions 
to  you  were  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  them.    Write  no 


8  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

more  about  business,  but  about  my  dear  wife  and  little 
ones,  if  you  wish  to  make  your  letters  interesting.  We 
have  been  kept  moving  since  we  came  here.  We  have  a 
hard  time,  but  have  gotten  used  to  it.  The  men  were  dis- 
contented and  unmanageable  at  first,  but  are  now  very 
well  satisfied.  This  section  now  is  in  most  complete  condi- 
tion for  defense,  abundantly  able,  I  think,  to  resist  any 
force  which  can  be  made  against  it.  Troops  have  been 
lately  arriving  in  large  numbers.  I  have  no  idea  when 
the  battle  will  be  fought.  Many  of  us  will  fall  in  it,  but  I 
have  no  doubt  of  our  success.  And  now,  my  darling, 
good-bye  until  I  write  again. 


Harper's  Ferry,  June  5, 1861. 

I  received  your  sweet  letter  of  the  1st  inst.  on  yesterday, 
and  the  return  of  Mr.  McClure  gives  me  the  opportunity 
of  sending  you  a  line  in  return  for  it.  When  McClure 
came  here  to  see  his  son,  a  member  of  our  company,  I  of- 
fered him  my  hand,  which  he  took,  and  thus  I  have  made 
friends  with  the  only  man  on  earth  with  whom  I  was  not 
on  speaking  terms.  I  bade  a  cordial  good-bye  to  Wilson 
when  I  left  home,  which  I  think  he  returned  in  the  same 
spirit  of  good- will.  I  now  may  say  that  there  is  no  one  on 
earth  for  whom  I  entertain  anything  but  feelings  of  kind- 
ness, and  I  think  I  have  the  ill  will  of  no  one.  In  view  of 
the  danger  before  me,  it  is  indeed  gratifying  to  feel  that 
I  have  the  good-will  of  those  I  leave  behind,  and  that  I 
leave  no  one  who  has  received  a  wrong  from  me  which  I 
have  not  regretted  and  which  is  not  forgiven.  If  Mr.  Mc- 
Clure calls  on  you,  for  my  sake  treat  him  with  the  utmost 
kindness.    Send  me  the  miniature.    Good-bye,  dearest. 

Winchester,  June  15, 1861. 

On  Tuesday  last  we  marched  on  foot  from  Harper's 
Ferry  to  Shepherdstown,  thence  seven  miles  farther  up 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  9 

the  Potomac.  There  we  remained  a  day  and  a  half,  when 
we  were  ordered  to  this  place,  on  foot  again,  and  reached 
here,  forty  miles,  in  a  day  and  a  half.  How  long  we  re- 
main here,  or  when  we  move  again,  I  have  not  an  idea.  I 
hardly  thought  I  would  have  been  able  to  stand  forty 
miles '  walk  so  well.  Last  night  I  felt  very  tired,  but  this 
evening  entirely  recovered.  The  last  three  nights  I  have 
slept  in  the  open  air  on  the  ground,  and  never  enjoyed 
sleep  more.  I  saw  Capt.  Jim  "White  to-day,  and  his  col- 
lege boys.  Lexington  has  been  well  drained  of  its  youth 
and  manhood.  I  heartily  wish,  Love,  that  I  was  with  you 
again,  I  hardly  know  what  I  would  not  give  for  one  day 
with  wife  and  little  ones.  But  I  must  not  think  of  it.  I 
would  soon  make  myself  very  unhappy  if  I  suffered  my 
mind  to  wander  in  that  direction.  I  ought  to  be  grateful 
to  Omnipotence  for  such  a  love  as  that  which  you  give  me. 
Blood  and  kindred  never  made  a  stronger  tie.  We  have 
just  received  orders  to  hitch  up  again — for  what  destina- 
tion I  do  not  know.  Harper's  Ferry  has  been  abandoned 
by  our  forces,  and  hereafter  direct  your  letters  to  the  ad- 
dress below.  Kiss  the  dear  little  baby  boys  for  their  ab- 
sent papa,  and  for  yourself  accept  the  best  love  of  a  fond 
husband. 


Camp  Stephens,  near  Martinsburg,  June  30, 1861. 

I  wrote  to  you  last  Monday,  and  immediately  was  ordered 
off  on  another  expedition,  in  which  I  have  been  engaged 
the  greater  part  of  the  past  week.  I  was  in  charge  of  a 
small  force  engaged  in  destroying  a  bridge  some  ten  miles 
from  our  camp  on  the  railroad.  It  was  a  rather  danger- 
ous expedition,  but  I  have  become  so  much  accustomed  to 
the  prospect  of  danger  that  it  excites  no  alarm.  I  thought 
when  we  left  Winchester  that  we  certainly  would  have 
had  a  battle  in  a  very  few  days;  but  two  weeks  have 
elapsed,  and  there  is,  I  think,  less  reason  to  expect  one 
now  than  there  has  been  heretofore.     The  enemy  is  en- 


10  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

camped  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Potomac  some  ten 
miles  from  here,  but,  I  am  satisfied,  in  less  force  than  we 
have  in  this  vicinity.  Under  such  circumstances,  if  we 
get  a  fight  we  shall  have  to  cross  the  river  and  make  the 
attack.  Our  picket-guards  occasionally  come  in  contact, 
and  the  other  day  one  of  the  Augusta  Cavalry  was  se- 
verely wounded.  I  hope  you  are  having  good  success  as 
a  farmer ;  so,  if  I  should  be  left  behind  when  the  war  is 
over,  you  may  be  able  to  take  care  of  yourself.  You 
think,  Love,  I  write  very  indifferently  about  it.  As  to  the 
danger  to  myself,  I  am  free  to  confess  that  I  feel  perhaps 
too  indifferent.  Not  so  as  to  the  separation  from  loved 
wife  and  little  ones  at  home.  I  never  knew  what  you  were 
worth  to  me  until  this  war  began  and  the  terrible  feeling 
came  upon  me  that  I  had  pressed  you  to  my  bosom,  per- 
haps, for  the  last  time.  I  always  keep  upon  my  person  the 
handkerchief  which  I  took  from  your  hand  when  we  sepa- 
rated. It  was  bathed  in  tears  which  that  sad  moment 
brought  to  the  eyes  of  my  darling.  I  will  continue  to  wear 
it.  It  may  yet  serve  as  a  bandage  to  staunch  a  wound 
with.  I  keep  one  of  your  letters,  which  may  serve  to  indi- 
cate who  I  am,  where  may  be  found  the  fond  wife  who 
mourns  my  death.  May  neither  be  ever  needed  to  serve 
such  a  purpose!  Enclosed  I  send  a  letter  from  James 
Edmonson  to  his  grandmother.  Say  to  Mrs.  Chapin  that 
she  may  rely  upon  my  acting  the  part  of  comrade  and 
friend  to  George.  Kiss  the  children  for  me,  and  for  your- 
self accept  all  that  a  fond  lover  and  husband  can  offer. 


Near  Winchester,  July  8, 1861. 

The  last  week  has  been  one  of  patient  waiting  for  a  fight. 
Oni  Monday,  the  1st  inst.,  I  was  ordered  by  Col.  Jackson 
to  go  to  Martinsburg  and  burn  some  engines,  at  which  I 
was  engaged  until  Tuesday  morning,  when  I  received  an 
order  to  join  my  company,  accompanied  with  the  informa- 
tion that  the  enemy  was  approaching  and  our  force  had 


MEMOIE  AND  MEMORIALS  11 

gone  out  to  give  him  battle.  I  obtained  a  conveyance  as 
speedily  as  I  could,  and  the  first  intelligence  of  the  fight  I 
received  from  my  regiment,  which  I  found  retreating. 
My  company,  I  was  pleased  to  learn,  had  fought  bravely. 
On  Wednesday  morning  we  took  our  stand  ten  miles  this 
side  of  Martinsburg,  and  there  awaited  the  approach  of 
the  enemy  until  Sunday  morning,  when  we  retired  to  this 
place,  three  miles  from  Winchester.  This  we  expect  to 
be  our  battle-field.  When  it  will  take  place  it  is  impos- 
sible to  say.  It  may  be  to-morrow,  or  perhaps  not  for  a 
month,  depending  upon  the  movements  of  the  enemy.  I 
look  forward  to  it  without  any  feeling  of  alarm.  I  cannot 
tell  why,  but  it  is  so.  My  fate  may  be  that  of  Cousin  Bob 
McChesney,  of  whose  death  I  have  but  heard.  If  so,  let 
it  be.  I  die  in  the  discharge  of  my  duty,  from  which  it  is 
neither  my  wish  nor  my  privilege  to  shrink.  The  horse- 
trade  was  entirely  satisfactory.  Act  in  the  same  way  in 
all  matters  connected  with  the  farm.  Just  consider  your- 
self a  widow,  and,  in  military  parlance,  insist  upon  being 
"obeyed  and  respected  accordingly."  Pay  your  board 
at  Annie's  out  of  the  first  money  you  get.  She  may 
not  be  disposed  to  accept  it,  but  I  insist  upon  it.  I  do 
not  wish  to  pay  such  bills  merely  with  gratitude.  New- 
man is  still  in  the  army,  but  I  have  not  seen  him  for  a 
month.  I  called  to  see  him  the  other  day,  but  he  was  not 
at  his  quarters. 

It  is  now  nearly  three  months  since  I  left  home,  and  I 
hardly  know  how  the  time  has  passed.  All  I  know  is  that 
if  I  do  my  duty,  I  have  but  little  leisure.  I  am  used  to  the 
hardships  of  the  service,  and  feel  that  I  have  the  health 
and  strength  to  bear  any  fatigue  or  exposure.  Some- 
times, as  I  lie  upon  the  ground,  my  face  to  the  sky,  I  think 
of  Matthew's  little  verse,  "Twinkle,  twinkle,  little  star," 
and  my  mind  wanders  back  to  the  wife  and  little  ones  at 
home.  Bless  you !  If  I  never  return,  the  wish  which  lies 
nearest  to  my  heart  is  for  your  happiness.  And  now,  my 
darling,  again  good-bye.    Kiss  little  Matthew  and  Galla 


12  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

for  me,  and  tell  them  Papa  sends  it.  Give  my  love  to  Pa 
and  Rachel,  and  for  yourself  accept  all  that  a  fond  hus- 
band can  give. 

Manassas,  July  23, 1861. 

My  Darling:  We  spent  Sunday  last  in  the  sacred  work  of 
achieving  our  nationality  and  independence.  The  work 
was  nobly  done,  and  it  was  the  happiest  day  of  my  life,  our 
wedding-day  not  excepted.  I  think  the  fight  is  over  for- 
ever. I  received  a  ball  through  my  shirt-sleeves,  slightly 
bruising  my  arm,  and  others,  whistling  "Yankee  Doodle" 
round  my  head,  made  fourteen  holes  through  the  flag 
which  I  carried  in  the  hottest  of  the  fight.  It  is  a  miracle 
that  I  escaped  with  my  life,  so  many  falling  dead  around 
me.  Buried  two  of  our  comrades  on  the  field.  God  bless 
my  country,  my  wife,  and  my  little  ones ! 

The  following  is  taken  from  the  Lexington  ' '  Gazette, ' ' 
dated  August  8,  1861 : 

"  It  is  due  to  our  worthy  fellow-citizen,  Mr.  E.  F.  Paxton, 
or  rather  it  is  due  to  the  county  of  Rockbridge,  to  claim 
credit  for  Mr.  Paxton 's  conduct,  which  he  has  been  too 
modest  to  claim  for  himself.  A  correspondent  of  one  of 
the  Richmond  papers  a  short  time  since  spoke  of  a  Vir- 
ginian who  had  been  lost  from  his  company  during  the 
fight,  and  fell  in  with  the  Georgia  Regiment  just  as  their 
standard-bearer  fell.  The  lost  Virginian  asked  leave  to 
bear  the  colors.  It  was  granted  to  him.  He  bore  them 
bravely.  The  flag  was  shot  through  three  times,  and  the 
flag-staff  was  shot  off  whilst  in  his  hands.  But  he  placed 
the  flag  on  the  Sherman  Battery,  and  our  brave  men  stood 
up  to  their  colors  and  took  the  battery.  That  lost  Virgin- 
ian was  E.  F.  Paxton,  of  Rockbridge." 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  13 

Letter  to  the  Editor  of  the  Lexington  " Gazette." 

Camp  Harmon,  August  24, 1861. 

I  do  not  merit  the  compliment  paid  me  in  a  paragraph 
contained  in  a  recent  number  of  yonr  paper,  which  gives 
me  the  position  of  leading  a  portion  of  the  4th  Va.  and  7th 
Geo.  in  the  charge  upon  the  enemy's  batteries.  The  4th 
Va.  was  led  by  its  gallant  officers,  Preston,  Moore  and 
Kent,  and  it  was  by  order  of  Col.  Preston,  who  was  the 
first  to  reach  the  battery,  that  I  placed  the  flag  upon  it. 
The  7th  Geo.  was  led  by  one  whom  history  will  place 
among  the  noblest  of  the  brave  men  whose  blood  stained 
the  field  of  Manassas— the  lamented  Bartow;  when  he 
fell,  then  by  its  immediate  commander,  Col.  Gartrell,  until 
he  was  carried,  wounded,  from  the  field;  and  then,  until 
the  close  of  the  day,  by  Major  Dunwoodie,  the  next  in 
command. 

If  the  paragraph  means,  not  leading,  but  foremost,  the 
compliment  is  equally  unmerited.  In  the  midst  of  the  ter- 
rible shower  of  ball  and  shell  to  which  we  were  subjected, 
and  whilst  our  men,  dead  and  wounded,  fell  thick  and  fast 
around  us,  my  associates  in  the  command  of  our  company, 
Letcher,  Edmondson  and  Lewis,  were  by  my  side;  the 
dead  bodies  of  my  comrades,  Fred  Davidson  and  Asbury 
McClure,  attest  their  gallantry;  and  the  severe  wounds 
which  Bowyer,  Moodie,  Northern,  Nefr"  and  P.  Davidson 
carried  home  show  where  they  were.  I  witnessed,  on  the 
part  of  many  of  our  company  around  me,  heroism  equal 
to  that  of  those  I  have  named ;  but  as  others  whom,  in  the 
excitement  of  the  occasion,  I  do  not  remember  to  have 
seen,  did  quite  as  well,  I  may  do  injustice  to  name  whom  I 
saw.  Compared  with  the  terrible  danger  to  which  we 
were  exposed  at  this  time,  that  seems  trifling  when,  at  a 
later  hour  and  in  another  part  of  the  field,  the  flag  was 
placed  on  some  of  the  guns  of  the  Rhode  Island  battery, 
which  the  enemy  were  then  leaving  in  rapid  retreat,  the 


14  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

day  being  already  won,  and  the  glories  of  Manassas 
achieved. 

Again,  I  did  not  get  the  flag  when  Bartow  fell,  but  some- 
time after,  from  the  color-sergeant  of  the  regiment,  who, 
wounded,  was  no  longer  able  to  bear  it. 

The  work  done  by  Jackson's  Brigade  and  the  7th  Geo., 
and  the  credit  to  which  they  are  entitled,  is  stated  in  the 
following  extract  from  the  official  report  of  Gen.  Mc- 
Dowell: "The  hottest  part  of  the  contest  was  for  the  pos- 
session of  this  hill  with  a  house  on  it. ' '  Here  Jackson  and 
his  gallant  men  fought.  Here  the  work  of  that  memor- 
able Sabbath  was  finished. 


Manassas,  July  26,  1861. 

I  wrote  a  short  note  to  you  on  Tuesday,  advising  you  of 
my  escape  from  the  battle  of  Sunday  in  safety.  Matters 
are  now  quiet,  and  no  prospect,  I  think,  of  another  en- 
gagement very  soon.  When  I  think  of  the  past,  and  the 
peril  through  which  it  has  been  my  fortune  to  pass  in 
safety,  I  am  free  to  admit  that  I  have  no  desire  to  partici- 
pate ini  another  such  scene  until  the  cause  of  my  country 
requires  it.  Then  the  danger  must  be  met,  cost  what  it 
may.  How  I  wish,  Love,  that  I  could  see  you  and  our  little 
ones  again!  But  for  the  present  I  must  not  think  of  it. 
Just  as  soon  as  the  public  service  will  permit  I  will  be 
with  you.  The  result  of  the  battle  has  cast  a  shade  of 
gloom  over  many  who  mourn  husband,  brother  and  child 
left  dead  on  the  field.  Of  those  of  our  company  who  went 
into  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  at  least  one-half  were  killed 
or  wounded.  Some  others  escaped  danger  by  sneaking 
away  like  cowards.  The  other  companies  from  our 
county  suffered  as  severely  as  ours.  It  seems,  Love,  an 
age  since  I  have  heard  from  you.  You  must  write  oftener. 
Why  is  it  that  you  have  not  sent  the  daguerreotype  of 
yourself  and  the  children?  Send  me,  by  the  first  oppor- 
tunity, another  shirt  just  like  that  which  you  last  sent  me. 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  15 

I  will  lay  that  by— as  it  has  a  hole  through  it  made  by  a 
ball  in  the  battle— as  a  memento  of  the  glorious  day.  Do 
not  send  me  any  more  clothing  until  I  write  for  it,  as  I  do 
not  wish  more  than  absolute  necessity  requires,  having  no 
means  of  carrying  it  with  me. 

I  wish  you  would  call  upon  Mrs.  J.  D.  Davidson  for  me, 
and  say  to  her  she  has  reason  to  be  proud  of  her  brave 
boy.  It  was  by  the  heroic  services  of  men  like  him  who 
have  sacrificed  their  lives  that  the  battle  was  won.  He 
fell  just  as  he  and  his  comrades  were  taking  possession  of 
a  splendid  battery  of  the  enemy's  cannon,  and  those  who 
defended  it  were  flying  from  the  field.  And  now,  Love, 
good-bye.  I  think  you  need  have  no  apprehension  about 
my  safety  for  some  weeks  at  least.  It  is  not  probable  that 
we  shall  have  another  battle  very  soon ;  and  if  we  do,  as 
our  brigade  was  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight  before,  we  will 
not  be  so  much  exposed  again.  Give  my  love  to  Pa, 
Rachel,  Annie,  and  all  my  friends.  Kiss  our  dear  little 
ones  for  their  absent  papa,  and  for  yourself  accept  a  hus- 
band's best  love. 


Manassas,  August  3, 1861. 

I  reached  here  last  night  after  spending  a  day  in  Staun- 
ton. When  I  reached  there  I  found  the  militia  of  Rock- 
bridge, and  some  of  the  officers  insisted  upon  my  remain- 
ing a  day  to  aid  them  in  raising  the  necessary  number  of 
volunteers  (270)  to  have  the  others  disbanded  and  sent 
home.  I  was  very  glad,  indeed,  that  it  was  accomplished 
and  the  others  permitted  to  return  home  and  attend  to 
their  farms.  I  found,  upon  reaching  Manassas,  that  our 
encampment  had  been  removed  eight  miles  from  there,  in 
the  direction  of  Alexandria;  and  after  a  walk  of  some 
three  hours  I  reached  here  about  nine  o'clock  at  night, 
somewhat  fatigued.  I  do  not  know  what  our  future  oper- 
ations are  to  be;  but  think  it  probable  that  we  shall 
remain  here  for  some  time  in  idleness.    I  am  free  to  con- 


16  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

fess  that  I  don't  like  the  prospect;  without  any  employ- 
ment or  amusement,  the  time  will  pass  with  me  very  un- 
pleasantly, and  such  soldiering,  if  long  continued,  I  fear, 
will  make  most  of  us  very  worthless  and  lazy;  perhaps 
send  us  home  at  last  idle  loafers  instead  of  useful  and  in- 
dustrious citizens.  Such  a  result  I  should  regard  as  more 
disastrous  than  a  dozen  battles.  In  passing  along  the 
road  from  Manassas,  the  whole  country  seemed  filled  with 
our  troops,  and  I  understand  that  our  encampment  ex- 
tends as  far  as  eight  miles  this  side  of  Alexandria.  I 
think  we  have  troops  enough  to  defend  the  country  against 
any  force  which  may  be  brought  against  us. 

Since  this  much  of  my  letter  was  written,  Lewis  has 
handed  me  your  note  of  25th  ult.  You  say  you  are  almost 
tempted,  from  my  short  and  far  between  letters,  to  think 
that  I  do  not  love  you  as  well  as  I  ought.  You  are  a  mean 
sinner  to  think  so.  Just  think  how  hard  I  fought  at  Ma- 
nassas to  make  you  the  widow  of  a  dead  man  or  the  wife 
of  a  live  one,  and  this  is  all  the  return  my  darling  wife 
makes  for  it.  If  I  was  near  enough  I  would  hug  you  to 
death  for  such  meanness.  In  truth,  Love,  I  may  say  that 
I  never  closed  one  of  my  short  notes  until  my  eyes  began 
to  smart.  Sometimes  I  did  not  wish  to  write.  When  we 
were  for  some  time  on  the  eve  of  a  battle  I  did  not  wish 
to  write  lest  you  might  be  alarmed  for  my  safety.  Until 
the  last  month,  when  danger  seemed  so  threatening,  I 
think  I  have  written  once  a  week.  But,  Love,  when  you 
doubt  my  affection,  you  must  look  to  the  past,  and  if  the 
doubt  is  not  dispelled,  I  can't  satisfy  you,  and  you  must 
continue  in  the  delusion  that  the  truest  and  steadiest  feel- 
ing my  heart  has  ever  known— my  love  for  you — has 
passed  away. 

I  know,  Love,  you  think  I  exposed  myself  too  much  in 
the  battle.  But  for  such  conduct  on  the  part  of  thousands, 
the  day  would  have  been  lost,  and  our  State  would  now 
have  been  in  the  possession  of  our  enemies.  When  I  think 
of  the  result,  and  the  terrible  doom  from  which  we  are 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  17 

saved,  I  feel  that  I  could  have  cheerfully  yielded  up  my 
life,  and  have  left  my  wife  and  little  ones  draped  in 
mourning  to  have  achieved  it.  Our  future  course  must  be 
the  same,  if  we  expect  a  like  result. 


Centreville,  August  7,  1861. 

I  have  received  from  Gen.  Jackson  the  appointment  to  act 
as  his  aid,  and  wish  you  to  send  my  uniform  coat  and 
pants  by  Rollin,  Kahle  or  some  one  of  our  men,  whichever 
comes  first.  Switzer  is  just  leaving,  and  I  have  not  time 
to  write  more. 

Camp  Harmon,  Manassas,  August  18,  1861. 

I  promised  in  my  letter  of  last  Sunday  to  write  to  you 
every  Sunday,  and  I  will  to-day,  but  I  ought  not,  as  you 
have  not  answered  my  last.  I  find  abundance  of  employ- 
ment in  my  new  position,  but  I  like  it  all  the  better  on  this 
account.  The  last  week  has  been  almost  one  continuous 
dreary  rain,  making  soldier  life  more  comfortless  than 
usual.  I  think  I  shall  quit  the  use  of  tobacco  altogether, 
as  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  it  injures  me.  I  am  very 
glad  that  my  duties  require  of  me  very  little  writing,  for 
what  little  I  do  satisfies  me  that  my  eyes  have  not  im- 
proved, and  that  it  is  not  safe  to  use  them  much.  They 
pained  after  the  writing  which  I  did  last  Sunday  to  Wm. 
White  and  yourself.  I  think  we  have  the  prospect  of  an 
idle  life  here  for  some  time  to  come.  I  am  free  to  say  I 
don't  like  it.  I  would  prefer  to  move  into  Maryland  for 
an  assault  upon  Washington  and  a  speedy  close  of  the 
war.  But  I  suppose  those  in  command  know  best  what 
should  be  done. 

Camp  Harmon,  August  — ,  1861. 

I  had  a  chance  to  show  my  gallantry  last  week.  I  was  di- 
rected one  night  to  pass  a  Mr.  Pendleton  and  his  party 


18  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

through  our  line  of  sentinels.  I  reached  the  party  about 
ten  o  'clock,  and  found  the  party  consisting  of  an  old  gen- 
tleman driving  the  carriage,  and  in  it  the  wife  of  his  son 
with  three  or  four  children.  She  told  me  they  were  going 
to  stay  a  mile  beyond,  with  a  lady  to  whom  she  had  a  let- 
ter, and  were  on  their  way  to  Virginia  from  Washington. 
Knowing  the  difficulty  they  would  have  in  passing  the 
sentinels  of  the  other  camps,  I  volunteered  to  accompany 
them.  But  when  they  reached  the  house  where  they  ex- 
pected to  stay  all  night  I  delivered  their  letter  and  was 
told  they  could  not  be  taken  in,  as  the  house  was  full  of 
sick  people,  and  that  there  was  no  other  house  in  the 
village  where  there  was  any  prospect  of  getting  them  in. 
The  only  chance  then  was  to  take  the  road  and  run  the 
chance  of  getting  into  a  farm-house  or  travel  all  night. 
I  went  with  them,  and  succeeded  in  getting  them  lodging 
at  a  farm-house  three  miles  further  on.  She  was  profuse 
in  her  expressions  of  gratitude,  and  I  took  leave  of  them 
and  walked  back  four  miles  to  our  camp,  which  I  reached 
about  one  o'clock,  well  paid  for  my  trouble  in  feeling 
conscious  that  I  had  done  a  good  deed. 


Camp  Harmon,  September  1,  1861. 

I  wish  very  much  this  war  was  over,  and  I  could  be  with 
you  again  at  our  home.  There  you  remember,  Love, 
you  used  to  read,  last  December,  to  me  of  the  stirring 
events  in  South  Carolina ;  but  we  never  dreamed  that  such 
a  struggle  would  result  as  that  in  which  we  are  now 
engaged,  that  the  husbands  and  fathers  among  our  people 
would  be  called  upon  to  leave  wives  and  children  at  home 
to  mourn  their  absence  whilst  mingling  in  such  a  scene  of 
blood  and  carnage  as  that  through  which  we  passed  on  the 
21st  of  July.  But  so  it  is.  How  little  we  know  of  the 
future  and  our  destiny !  Dark  as  the  present  is,  I  indulge 
the  hope  it  may  soon  change,  and  I  may  be  with  you  again, 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  19 

not  for  a  short  visit,  but  to  stay.  Whilst  such  is  the  fond 
hope,  when  I  look  within  my  heart  I  find  an  immovable 
purpose  to  remain  until  the  struggle  ends  in  the  establish- 
ment of  our  independence.  Can  the  fond  love  which  I 
cherish  for  you  and  our  dear  little  children  be  reconciled 
with  such  a  purpose  ?  If  I  know  myself,  such  is  the  fact. 
But,  Love,  my  eye  hurts  me.  It  is  sad  to  think  of  it,  and 
that  it  disables  me  for  life.  It  deprives  me  of  the  pleasure 
of  reading  for  information  and  pleasure,  unfits  me  for 
most  kinds  of  business,  and  deprives  me  of  the  means  of 
earning  an  independent  support,  which  I  feel  I  could  do 
if  I  had  my  sight.  The  present  is  dark  enough,  but  the 
future  seems  darker  still,  when  I  think  of  my  return  home, 
possibly  made  a  bankrupt  by  the  confiscation  of  my  Ohio 
land,  and  then  without  means  of  earning  a  support  or  pay- 
ing for  my  farm.  I  must  not  think  of  it  now ;  it  will  be  bad 
enough  when  it  comes.  I  ought  not  to  press  my  weak  eye 
any  farther.  Kiss  our  dear  little  ones  for  me.  Speak  of 
me  often  to  them.  Never  let  them  forget  their  "papa 
gone, ' '  who  loves  them  so  well. 


Camp  Harmon,  September  8,  1861. 

I  will  devote  to  a  letter  to  my  loving  little  wife  at  home 
part  of  this  quiet  Sunday  evening.  Sinner  as  I  am,  I 
like  to  see  something  to  mark  the  difference  between  Sun- 
day and  week-day.  We  have  no  drills  on  Sunday,  and 
generally  two  or  three  sermons  in  different  parts  of  the 
camp,  which  was  not  so  some  time  since,  when  everything 
went  on  as  on  every  other  day.  This  morning  we  had  a 
sermon  from  Bishop  Johns,  who  dined  with  us,  and  this 
afternoon  he  preaches  again.  We  expect  this  evening  a 
distinguished  visitor,  Mrs.  Jackson,  so  we  shall  have 
mistress  as  well  as  master  in  the  camp.  The  General  went 
for  her  to  Manassas  yesterday  evening,  but  returned  with- 
out her,  finding  she  had  gone  to  Fairfax,  where  he  im- 


20  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

mediately  started  in  search  of  her.  When  she  arrives  his 
headquarters,  I  doubt  not,  will  present  much  more  the 
appearance  of  civilization.  But  before  she  is  here  long 
she  will  probably  be  startled  with  an  alarm,  false  or  real, 
of  a  fight,  which  will  make  her  wish  she  was  at  home 
again. 

Fairfax  C.  H.,  September  16, 1861. 

I  did  not  write  my  regular  Sunday  letter  to  you  on  yes- 
terday. As  usual,  after  breakfast  I  left  the  camp  on  duty, 
and  did  not  return  until  dinner,  when,  very  tired,  I  slept 
a  couple  of  hours.  Very  soon  I  got  orders  to  leave  again 
for  a  ride  of  thirteen  miles,  and  did  not  get  back  until  bed- 
time. This  morning  we  all  left  for  our  new  encampment, 
where  all  are  comfortably  quartered. 

I  received  your  letter  of  9th  inst.  a  few  days  since. 
Indeed,  Love,  the  perusal  of  your  letters  gives  me  more 
pleasure  than  I  ever  received  from  any  other  source. 
Should  I  not  be  happy  to  know  there  is  some  one  in  the 
world  who  loves  me  so  well  and  looks  with  such  deep  in- 
terest to  my  fate  1  To  be  with  you  again  is  the  wish  which 
lies  nearest  my  heart.  But  the  duty  to  which  my  life  is 
now  devoted  must  be  met  without  shrinking.  Before  the 
war  is  done  many,  I  fear,  must  fall,  and  I  may  be  one  of 
the  number.  If  so,  I  am  resigned  to  my  fate,  and  I 
bequeath  to  you  our  dear  little  boys  in  the  full  assurance 
that  you  will  give  to  my  country  in  them  true  and  useful 
citizens.  I  wish,  Love,  the  prospect  were  brighter,  but 
indeed  I  see  no  hope  of  a  speedy  end  of  this  bloody  con- 
test. 

Camp  near  Fairfax  C.  H.,  September  22, 1861. 

I  am  indebted  to  you  for  much  pleasure  afforded  by  your 
sweet  letter  of  16th  inst.  I  know,  Love,  my  presence 
is  sadly  missed  at  home,  but  not  more  than  in  my  lonely 
tent  I  miss  my  dear  wife  and  her  fond  caress.    I  am  sure, 


MEMOIE  AND  MEMORIALS  21 

too,  you  are  not  more  eager  in  your  wish  for  my  return, 
than  I  am  to  be  with  you.  But  I  feel  sure  you  would  not 
have  me  abandon  my  post  and  desert  our  flag  when  it 
needs  every  arm  now  in  its  service  for  its  defence.  To 
return  home,  all  I  have  to  do  is  to  resign  my  office,  a 
privilege  which  a  man  in  the  ranks  does  not  enjoy.  Then 
your  wish  and  mine  is  easily  fulfilled,  but  in  thus  ac- 
complishing it  I  would  go  to  you  dishonored  by  an  exhibi- 
tion of  the  want  of  those  qualities  which  alike  grace  the 
citizen  and  the  soldier.  An  imputation  of  such  deficiency 
of  manly  virtues  I  should  in  times  past  have  resented  as 
an  insult.  Would  you  have  me  merit  it  now  ?  I  think  not. 
My  love  for  you,  if  no  other  tie  bound  me  to  life,  is  such 
that  I  would  not  wantonly  throw  my  life  away.  But  my 
duty  must  be  met,  whatever  the  expense,  and  I  must  cling 
to  our  cause  until  the  struggle  ends  in  our  success  or  ruin, 
if  my  life  lasts  so  long.  I  trust  I  have  that  obstinacy  of 
resolution  which  will  make  my  future  conform  to  such 
sentiments  of  my  duty.  Mrs.  Jackson  took  leave  of  us 
some  days  since,  as  the  General  was  not  able  to  get 
quarters  for  her  in  a  house  near  our  present  encampment. 
I  rode,  between  sunset  and  breakfast  next  morning,  some 
thirty  miles  to  secure  the  services  of  a  gentleman  to  meet 
her  at  Manassas  and  escort  her  home.  In  return  for  this 
hard  night's  ride  she  sent  me  by  the  General  her  thanks 
in  the  message  that  she  "hoped  I  might  soon  see  my 
wife."  You  hope  so  too,  don't  you,  Monkey1?  I  was  well 
paid  for  my  trouble  in  the  consciousness  of  having  mer- 
ited her  gratitude. 

I  stopped  at  Mr.  Newman's  camp  the  other  day  to  see 
him,  but  learned  from  Deacon  that  he  was  at  home, 
and  that  little  Mary  was  dead.  I  sympathized  deeply  with 
them  in  the  sad  bereavement.  I  learned  from  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Brown,  who  reached  here  from  Richmond  this  morn- 
ing, that  he  saw  Matthew  at  Gordonsville,  on  his  way  here. 
I  suppose  he  will  come  to  see  me  when  he  arrives. 

Yesterday  I  was  down  the  road  some  ten  miles,  and, 


22  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

from  a  hill  in  the  possession  of  our  troops,  had  a  good 
view  of  the  dome  of  the  Capitol,  some  five  or  six  miles 
distant.  The  city  was  not  visible  in  consequence  of  the 
intervening  woods.  We  were  very  near,  but  it  will  cost 
us  many  gallant  lives  to  open  the  way  that  short  distance. 
I  have  no  means  of  knowing,  but  do  not  think  it  probable 
the  effort  will  be  made  very  soon,  if  at  all.  I  saw  the 
sentinel  of  the  enemy  in  the  field  below  me,  and  about  half 
a  mile  off,  and  not  far  on  this  side  our  own  sentinels. 
They  occasionally  fire  at  each  other.  Mrs.  Stuart,  wife 
of  the  Colonel  who  has  charge  of  our  outpost,  stays  here 
with  him.  Whilst  there  looking  at  the  Capitol  I  saw  two 
of  his  little  children  playing  as  carelessly  as  if  they  were 
at  home.  A  dangerous  place,  you  will  think,  for  women 
and  children.  Remember  me  to  Fitzgerald  and  his  wife, 
and  say  that  I  am  very  grateful  for  what  they  have  done 
for  me.  And  now,  Love,  I  will  bid  you  good-bye  again. 
Kiss  little  Matthew  and  Galla  for  me. 


Camp  near  Fairfax  C.  H.,  September  28,  1861. 

I  will  close  a  delightful  Sunday  evening  in  answering 
your  last  letter,  received  a  few  days  since.  I  heartily 
sympathize  with  you,  Love,  and  our  dear  little  Matthew 
in  your  wish  for  my  return.  My  absence  does  not  press 
more  heavily  upon  your  heart  than  upon  my  own.  But 
we  must  not  suffer  ourselves  to  grieve  over  the  necessity 
which  compels  our  separation.  We  must  bear  it  in  pa- 
tience, in  the  hope  that  when  I  return  we  shall  love  each 
other  all  the  better  for  it.  I  have  had  the  offer  from  Gov. 
Letcher  of  a  Commission  as  Major.  I  was  much  flattered 
by  the  compliment,  but  declined  it,  as  I  would  be  assigned 
to  duty  at  Norfolk.  Feeling  that  I  was  more  pleasantly 
situated  and  could  render  more  efficient  service  here,  I 
preferred  to  remain.  I  was  very  much  tempted  to  accept 
it,  from  the  consideration  that  it  would  probably  afford 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  23 

me  an  opportunity  of  passing  by  home  on  my  way ;  but  I 
thought  this  should  not  make  me  deviate  from  what  my 
judgment  approved  as  my  proper  course.  I  replied  that 
I  would  accept  the  appointment  if  assigned  to  duty 
in  this  brigade,  but  would  not  leave  it  for  the  sake  of  pro- 
motion. 

The  weather  begins  to  feel  like  frost,  and  hereafter  we 
shall,  I  fear,  find  a  soldier's  life  rather  uncomfortable. 
Sleeping  in  the  open  air  or  thin  tents  was  comfortable  a 
few  weeks  since ;  but  when  the  frost  begins  to  fall  freely, 
and  the  night  air  becomes  more  chilly,  lying  upon  the 
ground  and  looking  at  the  stars  will  not  be  so  pleasant. 
Then  we  shall  think  in  earnest  of  home,  warm  fires,  and 
soft  beds.  I  think  I  shall  get  used  to  it.  I  have  seen  many 
ups  and  downs  and  begin  to  fancy  that  I  can  bear  almost 
anything.  In  November  I  suppose  we  shall  find  comfort- 
able winter  quarters  somewhere,  or  shall  build  log  cabins 
and  stay  here.  I  went  down  to  see  Mat  some  days  since, 
but  did  not  find  him. 

Jim  Holly  came  this  evening  and  tells  me  he  has  the 
pair  of  pants  which  you  sent  me,  and  that  Waltz  will 
bring  some  more  things  for  me.  You  need  not  get  the 
overcoat;  my  coat  for  the  present  answers  a  very  good 
purpose,  and  if  I  find  hereafter  that  I  need  an  overcoat, 
I  will  send  to  Richmond  for  it. 

And  now,  Love,  as  I  have  taxed  my  eye  about  enough, 
I  will  bid  you  good-bye.  I  trust  that  you  will  make  your- 
self contented.  I  shall  be  all  the  happier  knowing  that 
you  are  so.  Give  a  kiss  to  our  dear  little  boys  for  me ;  for 
yourself  accept  a  fond  husband 's  best  love. 


Camp  near  Fairfax  C.  H.,  October  6, 1861. 

Your  letter  of  October  1st  was  received  on  yesterday,  and 
I  am  very  much  gratified  at  the  cheerful  feeling  which  it 
manifests.    It  shows,  too,  that  you  are  giving  a  very  com- 


24  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

mendable  attention  to  the  business  under  your  charge, 
and  give  promise,  if  the  war  lasts,  of  your  being  a  first- 
rate  business  woman.  You  have  your  mind  set  in  the 
right  direction,  for  it  seems  as  if  the  war  would  be  in- 
terminable, and  the  sooner  you  learn  how  to  take  care 
of  yourself  the  better  it  will  be.  Times  are  very  dull  with 
us  here.  Our  troops  are  but  a  mile  or  so  distant  from  the 
enemy,— so  near  that  our  pickets,  it  is  said,  occasionally 
meet  and  converse  with  theirs,  swap  newspapers,  tobacco, 
whisky,  etc.  Judging  from  the  newspapers,  one  would 
think  we  were  on  the  eve  of  a  battle  every  day,  but  here 
there  seems  little  apprehension  of  it.  We  may  have  a 
battle,  but  then  again  we  may  not.  On  the  whole,  the 
soldiers  would  just  as  lief  fight  as  not.  We  are  going  to 
have  a  sermon  this  evening,  and  I  will  bid  you  good-bye  to 
listen  to  it.  Kiss  our  dear  little  boys  for  me,  and  remind 
them  of  me.  I  should  regard  their  forgetting  me  as  the 
saddest  loss  sustained  by  my  absence  from  home.  Think 
of  me  often,  Love.  My  fondest  hope,  the  dearest  wish  of 
my  heart,  is  to  be  with  you  again.  Remember  me  to  the 
servants,  and  to  Pitz  and  his  wife,  to  Annie,  Rachel  and 
my  friends. 


Camp  near  Fairfax  C.  E.,  October  13,  1861. 

I  have  received  your  last  letter,  and  will  devote  an  hour 
of  this  quiet  Sabbath  to  giving  you  one  in  return  for  it. 
I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  that,  having  spared  your  team 
so  long,  they  have  called  for  it  at  last.  I  had  hope  they 
would  let  it  alone  in  consideration  of  my  absence  from 
home  in  the  service  of  the  State,  and  consequently  my 
inability  to  provide  means  of  supplying  its  place,  as  others 
who  have  remained  in  the  county  can.  It  is  nearly  equiva- 
lent to  a  loss  of  our  wheat  crop,  besides  the  great  injury 
the  horses  must  sustain  in  such  a  trip.  For  them  I  feel 
a  sort  of  attachment,  as  for  everything  else  at  home,  and 
should  hate  very  much  to  see  them  injured. 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  25 

We  are  having  a  very  quiet  and  dull  time.  The  fault  I 
have  with  my  present  position  is  that  I  have  too  little  to 
do.  Jackson  has  been  promoted  again,  and  is  now  Major- 
General.  It  is,  indeed,  very  gratifying  to  see  him  appre- 
ciated so  highly  and  promoted  so  rapidly.  It  is  all  well 
merited.  We  have,  I  think,  no  better  man  or  better  officer 
in  the  army.  I  do  not  know  to  what  position  he  will  be  as- 
signed. But  this  brigade  will  part  with  him  with  very 
much  regret.  I  shall  be  very  reluctant  to  leave  my  place 
on  his  staff  for  any  other  position. 

I  am  sorry  to  inform  you  on  the  money  question  that  I 
am  dead  broke,  and  gratified  to  say  that  I  do  not  expect 
it  to  continue  many  days.  I  have  about  $300  pay  due  me 
from  the  government,  and  sent  by  a  friend  who  went  to 
Richmond  a  few  days  since  to  draw  the  money,  but  he  has 
not  returned.  Say  to  Mrs.  Fuller  I  see  Sam  frequently 
and  he  is  very  well.  Kiss  the  children  for  me,  and  think  of 
me  often. 


Gentreville,  Va.,  October  20, 1861. 

Letters  prompted  by  an  affectionate  anxiety  for  my  fate, 
bringing  intelligence  that  wife  and  children  are  happy 
in  the  enjoyment  of  every  necessary  comfort  at  home, 
furnish  in  their  perusal  the  happiest  moments  of  the 
strange  life  I  am  leading.  Such  interchanges  of  letters 
are  a  poor  substitute  for  the  happiness  which  we  have 
found  in  each  other  in  times  past ;  but  it  is  all  we  can  have 
now.  Our  separation  must  continue  until  this  sad  war 
runs  its  course  and  terminates,  as  it  must  some  day,  in 
peace.  Then  I  trust  we  may  pass  what  remains  of  life 
together,  loving  each  other  all  the  better  from  a  recollec- 
tion of  the  sadness  we  have  felt  from  the  separation.  I  am 
sometimes  reminded  of  you,  and  the  strong  tie  which 
binds  me  to  you,  by  odd  circumstances.  The  other  day  I 
saw  an  officer,  who,  like  myself,  has  left  wife  and  children 
at  home,  riding  by  the  camp,  with  another  woman  on  horse- 


26  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

back,  from  a  pleasure  excursion  up  the  road ;  and  I  could 
not  help  feeling  that  in  seeking  pleasure  in  such  a  source 
he  was  proving  himself  false  to  the  holiest  feeling  and 
the  highest  obligation  which  is  known  on  earth.  I  thought 
if  I  had  acted  thus  faithless  to  you  and  our  marriage  vow, 
I  should  feel  through  life  a  sense  of  baseness  and  deg- 
radation from  which  no  repentance  or  reparation  could 
bring  relief.  If  I  know  myself,  I  would  not  exchange  the 
sweet  communion  with  my  absent  wife,  enjoyed  through 
the  recollections  of  the  past  and  the  hopes  of  the  future, 
for  any  temporary  pleasure  which  another  might  offer. 
I  would  rather  live  over  again  in  memory  the  scenes  of 
seven  long  years,  when  we  talked  of  our  love  and  our 
future,  our  ride  to  Staunton  on  our  wedding-day,  and  our 
association  since  then,  chequered  here  and  there  with 
events  of  sadness  and  sorrow,  than  accept  any  enjoyment 
which  ill-timed  passion  might  prompt  me  to  seek  from 
another.  I  trust,  Love,  this  feeling  may  grow  with  every 
day  which  passes,  and  that  I  may  always  have  the  satis- 
faction of  knowing  my  devotion  and  fidelity  merit  the 
affection  which  your  warm  heart  lavishes  upon  me. 

I  have  received  a  commission  as  Major  in  the  27th 
Regiment,  and  expect  to  change  my  quarters  to-morrow. 
I  leave  my  present  position  with  much  reluctance. 


Centreville,  Va.,  November  3, 1861. 

The  Frenchman  and  the  wheat  crop  give  you  a  peck  of 
trouble,  but  you  have  the  gratification  of  knowing  you  are 
not  alone  in  your  misery.  We  have  occasionally  some  lit- 
tle of  it  here.  Night  before  last  and  yesterday,  for  in- 
stance, we  had  a  storm  of  wind  and  rain  which  blew  over 
many  of  the  tents,  turning  their  inmates  out  in  the 
weather,  and  rendering  it  almost  impossible  to  cook  any- 
thing to  eat.  We  thought  it  bad  enough  here,  but  I  doubt 
not  those  regiments  which  were  on  picket  without  tents 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  27 

fared  even  worse  than  we  did  here.  If  you  who  have 
brick  houses  and  dry  quarters  to  live  in  have  your 
troubles,  those  of  us  here  fare  worse.  This  is  poor  con- 
solation, it  is  true.  I  thought  when  I  came  here  that  I  was 
settled  for  a  while  at  least  as  Major  of  the  regiment,  but 
last  week  I  got  an  order  from  Gen.  Smith  to  take  charge  of 
the  roads  used  by  the  army  and  have  them  put  in  repair. 
The  appointment  implied  an  opinion  that  I  possess  the 
energy  and  industry  to  have  the  work  done,  and  I  am  grat- 
ified so  far  as  the  compliment;  but  it  is  a  post  which  in- 
volves much  hard  work  and  affords  no  opportunity  for 
winning  laurels.  It  is,  however,  a  post  of  much  impor- 
tance, and  I  shall  spare  no  effort  to  justify  the  favorable 
opinion  which  induced  my  appointment. 

The  wind  blows  cold,  Love,  and  as  I  write  in  my  tent 
without  fire,  I  will  draw  my  letter  to  a  close.  Say  to  your 
father  that  the  cloth  is  just  suited  to  the  purpose  for  which 
I  need  the  coat  this  winter— out-of-door  life  in  all  sorts  of 
weather.  I  have  another  message  which  I  have  thought 
for  some  time  of  sending  him.  It  is  this :  the  principal 
part  of  my  estate  consists  of  land  in  Ohio,  the  loss  of 
which— and  I  have  but  little  hope  of  anything  else — 
breaks  me.  My  other  property,  under  the  depreciation 
which  the  war  is  likely  to  produce,  will  not  pay  my  debts. 
I  think  proper  to  communicate  this,  so  that  if  he  thinks  % 
proper  to  change  his  will,  he  can  do  so  and  make  such  pro- 
vision for  you  as  he  deems  best.  The  future  is  dark 
enough,  I  am  sure ;  but  I  shall  go  on  here  in  a  faithful  dis- 
charge of  my  duties,  trusting  that  it  may  some  day  be 
brighter. 


Winchester,  November  10,  1861. 

I  owe  you  a  letter  to-night,  and  will  pay  the  debt  with  a 
very  short  one.  We  got  here  about  sunset  from  Stras- 
burg,  after  a  tiresome  day's  march,  and  have  been  occu- 
pied up  to  this  time,  nine  o  'clock,  in  pitching  our  tents  and 


28  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON      . 

getting  some  supper.  The  latter  we  were  so  fortunate  as 
to  get  from  a  box  which  some  kind  friends  sent  to  Col. 
Echols.  What  shall  be  our  next  destination  I  have  no 
idea,  but  think  it  probable  we  shall  winter  somewhere  in 
this  quarter.  I  am  tired  and  sleepy,  Love,  and  I  will  bid 
you  good-night.  Kiss  the  children  for  me,  and  for  your- 
self accept  the  best  love  a  fond  husband  can  offer. 


Camp  near  Winchester,  November  17,  1861. 

Soldiering  for  the  past  week  has  been  a  hard  business. 
For  two  or  three  days  we  had  cold  rains,  and  the  balance 
of  the  time  very  severe  winds.  The  wind  is  perhaps  more 
severe  than  the  rain,  as  it  makes  our  outdoor  fires  very 
uncomfortable,  it  being  doubtful  whether  it  is  best  to 
stand  the  cold  or  the  smoke.  The  weather  feels  now  as  if 
the  campaign  was  over  and  we  must  soon  go  into  winter 
quarters.  If  we  get  houses,  I  presume  it  will  be  shanties, 
such  as  the  men  can  build  for  themselves  out  of  logs  and 
clapboards.  This  they  could  do  in  a  very  short  time. 
But  cotton  tents  will  be  bad  quarters  for  snowy,  freezing 
weather ;  and  if  we  do  not  have  better,  I  fear  we  shall  lose 
much  from  disease  this  winter.  My  health  at  present  is 
very  good,  and  I  think  I  stand  the  service  as  well  as  any 
one  else  in  it.  Last  night  I  slept  very  comfortably  with 
the  assistance  of  two  sheepskins  and  five  blankets. 

Since  our  arrival  here,  there  has  been  a  very  general 
congregation  of  officers'  wives  at  the  farm-houses  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  I  think  it  likely  to  continue  until 
women  and  children  are  as  common  in  the  camp  as  black- 
berries in  August.  So  I  have  little  hope  of  seeing  you 
here,  but  think  the  Yankees  will  go  into  winter  quarters 
before  long.  They  will  discover  that  a  winter  campaign 
in  this  part  of  the  sunny  South,  with  the  snow  a  foot  deep 
and  ice  everywhere,  is  uncomfortable,  and  will  give  us  a 
few  months'  rest.  I  hope  then  to  be  able  to  get  a  short 
furlough  to  see  my  dear  little  wife  and  babies  at  home. 


MEMOIE  AND  MEMORIALS  29 

And  now,  Love,  I  will  take  leave  of  you.  I  sympathize 
deeply  with  you  in  your  approaching  illness,  and  hope 
for  your  safe  and  speedy  recovery.  Remember  me  kindly 
to  your  father,  and  say  that  I  am  very  grateful  for  the  as- 
sistance which  he  has  given  you  in  my  absence. 


Winchester,  November  24,  1861. 

I  have  read  over  again  this  morning  your  two  last  letters, 
and  whilst  they  inspire  a  feeling  of  happiness  that  there 
is  a  dear  wife  at  home  whose  love  I  prize  and  cherish 
more  than  anything  else  on  earth,  yet  they  make  me  feel 
sad  that  she  is  unhappy.  I  think,  Love,  I  take  a  very 
calm  and  just  view  of  my  duty  and  of  the  future.  I  think 
I  should  remain  in  the  war  so  long  as  my  services  may  be 
needed,  although  it  be  at  the  sacrifice  of  personal  comfort 
and  pecuniary  interest,  and  compels  a  separation  from 
the  loved  wife  with  whom  the  happiest  recollections  of  the 
past  and  the  fondest  hopes  of  the  future  are  inseparably 
connected.  It  will  cost  me  all  this,  and  perhaps  my  life. 
If  so,  I  will  but  share  the  fate  of  thousands  who  must  fall 
in  the  contest,  doing  that  which  their  own  judgment  and 
the  common  sentiment  of  the  country  decide  to  be  their 
duty.  If  I  survive  the  end  of  the  war,  I  shall  then  quit  the 
service,  I  trust,  with  the  good  opinion  of  my  comrades  and 
with  my  own  approval  of  the  fidelity  and  efficiency  with 
which  my  duty  has  been  discharged.  Poverty  and  want 
may  then  mark  my  path  through  life,  but  I  do  not  expect 
it,  and  I  do  not  fear  it.  I  have  a  strong  faith  in  my  ca- 
pacity to  earn  a  livelihood  anywhere,— industry  meets  its 
reward, — and  to  secure  every  comfort  which  may  be 
necessary  for  the  happiness  of  the  wife  and  little  ones  who 
bless  my  home  with  their  presence.  Here  I  '11  change  the 
subject  to  say  that  while  writing  our  postman  has  arrived 
with  your  letter  of  20th  inst.  I  really  think,  Love,  you  are 
doing  finely,  and  your  providence  in  procuring  salt  in  ad- 


30  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

vance  of  the  rise  in  the  market  exhibits  qualities  to  fill  the 
place  of  a  soldier's  wife  which  need  only  a  little  necessity 
for  developing  them.  I  am  glad,  too,  to  hear  you  say  you 
are  too  busy  to  be  lonesome ;  that  is  a  step  in  the  right 
direction.  That  is  the  reason  why  I  was  sorry  to  give  up 
the  place  of  road  overseer  at  Manassas.  It  gave  me 
abundant  employment  for  mind  and  body,  made  me  sleep 
well  and  eat  well.  Now  I  have  a  job  as  member  of  a 
court  martial  which  requires  me  to  go  to  Winchester 
every  day,  where  the  court  is  in  session  from  9  a.m.  to 

3  P.M. 


Winchester,  December  1,  1861. 

I  have  received  your  last  letter,  and  am  sorry  that  you 
write  so  despondently  of  the  future.  It  would  be  sad, 
indeed,  for  me  to  think  that  day  would  ever  come  when 
the  dear  wife  and  little  ones  whose  happiness  and  comfort 
have  been  the  chief  aim  of  my  life,  should  be  dependent. 
You  would  not  be  more  grieved,  I  am  sure,  than  I  would 
be  at  such  a  prospect,  and  its  reality  could  not  distress  you 
more  than  it  would  me,  if  I  should  be  alive  to  witness  it. 
But,  Love,  it  does  not  become  either  of  us  to  harass  our- 
selves with  trouble  which  the  future  has  in  store  for  us. 
Mine  at  present  is  not  blessed  with  as  many  comforts  as  I 
have  seen  in  times  past ;  but  it  is  the  case  with  many  thou- 
sands who  feel  impelled  with  a  sense  of  patriotism  and 
duty  to  bear  it  in  patience,  and  I  shall  try  to  follow  their 
example.  When  I  sent  the  message  to  your  father  I  knew 
that  what  he  would  have  to  give  you  out  of  his  estate 
would  be  abundant  to  furnish  a  comfortable  support  for 
you  and  your  children,  whatever  misfortune  may  befall 
my  life  or  my  property,  and  I  desired,  if  it  had  not  been 
done,  that  it  might  be  secured  to  you  as  your  own.  The 
widow  and  orphan  of  many  a  gallant  man  destined  to  fall 
before  this  struggle  ends,  though  deserving,  have  not,  I 
apprehend,  such  a  prospect  of  a  comfortable  provision  as 


MEMOIE  AND  MEMOEIALS  31 

you  have.  So,  Love,  the  best  consolation  I  can  offer  you 
is  that  there  are  others  whose  future  is  as  dark  as  yours, 
and  that  yours  is  not  so  bad  but  that  it  might  be  worse. 
It  grieves  me,  I  am  sure,  as  much  as  it  does  you,  and  we 
must  both  make  up  our  minds,  as  the  surest  guaranty  of 
happiness,  to  bear  the  present  in  patience  and  cheerful- 
ness, and  cherish  a  hope  of  another  time,  when  we  shall 
be  together  again,  loving  and  happy  as  we  used  to  be.  If 
I  survive  this  war,  I  have  no  fear  of  being  unable  to  earn, 
by  my  own  industry  and  energy,  a  comfortable  support  for 
my  household.  If  fate  determines  that  I  must  perish  in 
the  contest,  then  I  trust  that  He  whose  supreme  wisdom 
and  goodness  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb  will 
shield  from  want  the  widow  and  orphans  left  dependent 
upon  His  providence.  This  is  the  first  day  of  winter,  and 
as  yet  we  have  had  no  snow.  It  has  for  some  time  been 
quite  cold,  and  the  water  often  frozen  over.  I  have  not 
as  yet  suffered  much  from  exposure,  and  think  I  shall 
stand  the  winter  well.  With  the  assistance  of  four  or  five 
blankets,  and  bed  made  of  some  hay  and  leaves  laid  on 
split  timber  raised  off  the  ground,  I  sleep  quite  warm.  I 
hear  nothing  said  of  winter  quarters,  and  so  far  there 
seems  to  be  no  determination  to  provide  them.  I  think  it 
would  be  as  well  to  go  into  winter  quarters,  for  the 
weather  and  the  roads  will  soon  be  such  as  to  make  active 
operations  utterly  impracticable. 

Will  Lewis  and  Annie  left  here  Wednesday,  I  think, 
and,  I  suppose,  have  reached  home  before  this  time.  I 
sent  by  her  my  likeness  and  some  candy  for  the  children. 
When  he  returns  send  me  your  likeness— that  which  was 
taken  before  we  were  married.  I  suppose  you  know 
where  it  is  put  away,  for  I  don 't  remember. 

And  now,  Love,  as  I  have  written  you  quite  a  long  letter 
compared  with  what  I  generally  write,  I  will  bid  you  good- 
bye till  my  next.  You  have  my  heartfelt  sympathy  in 
your  approaching  illness,  and  my  sincere  hope  of  your 
speedy  and  safe  recovery.    Kiss  dear  little  Matthew  and 


32  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

Galla  for  nie,  and  tell  them  to  be  good  boys.    And  now, 
dearest,  again  good-bye. 


Martinsburg,  December  9,  1861. 

I  did  not  write  my  accustomed  Sunday  letter  to  you  on 
yesterday.  I  was  otherwise  busy  until  9.30  o'clock  last 
night,  when  I  reached  here.  Then  I  was  so  sleepy  and 
tired,  I  could  hardly  stand  upon  my  feet,  having  been 
awake  all  the  night  before,  and  hard  at  work  most  of  it. 
Yesterday  I  spent  on  the  bank  of  the  Potomac,  not  as 
decent  people  generally  spend  the  Sabbath,  in  peace  and 
rest,  but  listening  to  the  music  of  cannon  and  musket,  and 
witnessing  their  work  of  destruction.  There  was  much 
firing,  but  little  damage  on  either  side,  as  the  river  inter- 
vened, and  the  men  of  the  enemy,  as  well  as  our  own,  were 
well  sheltered  from  fire.  Our  loss,  I  learn,  is  one  mor- 
tally wounded  and  two  very  seriously ;  one  of  the  latter  is 
the  son  of  Shanklin  McClure  of  our  county,  and  a  member 
of  the  Rockbridge  Artillery.  The  purpose  of  the  expe- 
dition was  to  destroy  a  dam  across  the  Potomac  which 
feeds  the  canal  now  used  by  the  enemy  in  shipping  coal. 
I  was  appointed  to  superintend  and  direct  the  execution 
of  the  work,  with  some  men  detailed  to  do  it.  We  reached 
the  ground  about  sunset  on  Saturday  evening,  when  a  few 
shots  from  our  artillery  drove  off  the  force  of  the  enemy 
stationed  on  the  opposite  side.  I  then  took  down  my 
force  and  put  it  to  work  and  continued  until  about  eleven 
o'clock,  when  we  were  surprised  by  a  fire  from  the  enemy 
on  the  opposite  side  again,  which  made  it  impossible  to 
proceed  until  they  could  be  driven  away.  At  daybreak 
Sunday  morning  our  cannon  opened  fire  upon  them  again, 
but  they  were  so  sheltered  in  the  canal— from  which  in 
the  meantime  they  had  drawn  off  the  water — that  it  was 
found  impossible  to  dislodge  them.  As  my  workmen 
could  not  be  protected  against  the  enemy's  fire,  I  found  it 
necessary  to  abandon  the  enterprise.     So  you  see,  Love, 


MEMOIE  AND  MEMORIALS  33 

entrusted  with  an  important  work,  I  have  made  a  failure. 
If  I  had  succeeded,  the  Yankees  would  have  suffered  much 
in  Washington  for  want  of  coal.  But  they  must  get  it  as 
usual,  for  which  they  may  thank  their  riflemen,  who  drove 
my  party  from  the  work  of  destruction  upon  which  they 
were  engaged. 

I  begin  to  think,  Love,  there  is  no  amount  of  fatigue, 
exposure  and  starvation  which  I  cannot  stand.  I  got 
notice  on  Thursday  about  three  o  'clock  that  I  was  wanted 
at  Jackson's  headquarters ;  there  I  got  my  directions,  and 
rode  here  in  a  hard  trot  of  about  six  miles  to  the  hour. 
The  next  afternoon  I  rode  up  and  took  a  view  of  the  work 
which  I  had  in  contemplation  and  returned  here.  On  Sat- 
urday morning  we  left  here  with  our  forces  to  accomplish 
it.  On  Sunday  at  twelve  o  'clock  I  could  not  help  but  re- 
mark that  I  felt  fresh,  although  I  had  not  slept  the  night 
before,  and  had  nothing  to  eat  since  Saturday  morning  at 
breakfast,  with  the  exception  of  a  small  piece  of  bread, 
and  had  been  upon  my  feet,  or  my  horse,  nearly  the  whole 
time.  I  think  this  war  will  give  me  a  stock  of  good  health 
which  will  last  a  good  while.  And  now,  Love,  whilst  I 
have  been  in  the  perils  of  minie-balls,  I  expect,  when  I  get 
to  Winchester,  to  receive  a  letter  from  somebody  saying 
that  you  have  been  in  worse  perils,  and  that  we  have  an 
addition  to  our  small  stock  of  children.  The  only  special 
message  I  have  is  that  its  name  may  be  yours  or  mine, 
just  as  you  like.  Whilst,  Love,  I  have  just  been  express- 
ing my  gratification  at  my  good  health,  and  my  capacity 
for  fatigue  and  exposure,  I  cannot  help  feeling  this  war  is 
an  uncertain  life,  and  there  is  no  telling  that  you  and  I 
may  never  see  much  of  each  other  again.  I  shall  try  and 
get  a  leave  of  absence  to  go  home  this  winter ;  but  I  sup- 
pose it  will  not  be  possible  until  after  Christmas,  as  I 
think  Col.  Echols  has  the  promise  of  a  leave  at  that  time, 
and  it  would  not  be  proper  for  us  both  to  be  away  at  the 
same  time. 

How  much  I  wish  that  I  was  with  you,  that  I  could  stay 


34  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

at  home !  But  to  turn  my  back  upon  our  cause,  to  leave 
the  fatigue,  patriotism  and  risk  of  life  which  it  requires 
to  be  borne  by  others,  when  duty  and  patriotism  require 
that  I  should  share  it,  I  cannot  do. 


Unger's  Store,  December  10,  1861. 

I  made  application  yesterday  for  leave  of  absence,  but 
was  informed  that  I  could  not  get  it  until  Col.  Echols  re- 
turned, who  has  leave  for  twenty-five  days  and  starts 
home  this  morning.  It  is  to  me  a  sad  disappointment,  but 
I  must  bear  it  as  cheerfully  as  I  can.  You  must  do  the 
same.  You  must  make  up  your  mind,  too,  Love,  to  stay 
at  home.  In  the  present  state  of  our  finances  we  must 
save  all  we  can,  and  this,  I  feel  sure,  will  be  best  done  by 
your  staying  on  the  farm.  I  think,  too,  you  will  be  as 
happy  there  as  you  could  be  elsewhere. 

Winchester,  December  12,  1861. 

Last  Monday  night  I  returned  to  our  camp  here,  where  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  reading  the  letters  of  Mary  and  Helen 
informing  me  that  your  troubles  were  all  over,  that  we 
had  another  little  boy  in  the  crib,  and  that  his  mamma,  as 
Mary  happily  expressed  it,  "Was  doing  as  well  as  could 
be  expected."  I  would  have  written  them  to  express  my 
gratification  at  the  good  news  from  home,  but  I  had  or- 
ders to  leave  again  upon  another  expedition  to  the 
Potomac  which  afforded  no  time  for  writing  a  letter.  I 
reached  Charlestown  the  next  morning  about  daylight  and 
spent  most  of  the  day  on  my  horse.  The  morning  started 
with  the  forces  at  one  o  'clock,  passing  by  Shepherdstown 
to  Dam  No.  4  on  the  Potomac,  where  we  captured  eight 
Federal  soldiers  whom  we  found  on  this  side  of  the  river, 
in  which  we  lost  one  man  wounded— I  suppose  fatally. 
We  remained  there  until  late  in  the  evening,  when  we 
started  for  Martinsburg,  where  we  arrived  about  nine 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  35 

o'clock,  having  made  a  march  of  about  twenty-six  miles. 
I  left  Martinsburg  the  next  afternoon  and  returned  to 
Winchester,  where,  having  been  some  time  engaged  in  a 
conference  with  Jackson,  I  found  a  bed  and  went  to  sleep, 
tired  enough,  I  am  sure.  This  morning  I  returned  to 
camp.  So,  Love,  I  have  given  you  together  my  opera- 
tions for  the  last  few  days,  which  furnish  the  reason  for 
my  not  writing  sooner. 

To-day  I  received  Mary's  letter  of  the  9th  inst.,  from 
which  I  learn  that  you  are  improving,  that  the  baby  is 
doing  well,  which  I  am  delighted  to  hear.  I  really  sym- 
pathize with  you,  Love,  in  your  lonely  situation.  You 
must  be  uncomfortable,  lying  all  day  and  night  in  bed, 
though  not  suffering  much  with  pain.  In  ten  days  more, 
I  suppose,  you  will  be  able  to  sit  up,  and  then  in  a  week  or 
so  get  about,  attending  to  matters  at  home,  as  usual.  I 
assure  you  that  I  reciprocate  your  wish  for  my  return 
home,  and  heartily  wish  that  I  could  consistently  with  my 
duty  remain  with  you.  If  I  can  get  a  leave  for  only  a  few 
days,  I  will  go  before  long  to  give  a  kiss  and  a  greeting  to 
the  little  fellow  who  has  such  strong  claims  upon  my  love 
and  care.  Active  operations  must  soon  cease,  when  there 
will  be  no  reason  why  a  short  furlough  should  not  be 
granted.  The  weather  is  already  cold  enough  to  make  it 
uncomfortable  in  tents  and  such  conveniences  as  we  are 
able  to  provide.  It  would  be  intolerable  if  we  were  put 
upon  the  march  with  insufficient  means  which  the  men 
would  have  of  making  themselves  comfortable. 

I  suppose  by  this  time  the  hands  have  been  making  con- 
siderable progress  in  getting  up  the  corn  crop,  and  hope 
they  may  be  able  to  finish  it  before  Christmas.  For  the 
hired  hands  clothing  must  be  furnished  before  Christmas. 
Can  you  get  Annie  or  your  ma  to  call  upon  Wm.  White 
and  get  the  goods  and  have  them  made  up  !  Give  my  love 
to  Helen  and  Mary  and  say  to  them  I  am  much  indebted 
to  them  for  their  letters  and  wish  them  to  continue  to 
write  until  you  are  able.    And  now,  Love,  good-bye  again. 


36  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

Give  my  love  to  your  father,  ma  and  Annie.  A  kiss  to 
Matthew,  Galla  and  the  baby,  and  for  yourself,  dearest, 
my  hearty  wish  for  your  speedy  recovery. 

Winchester,  December  15,  1861. 

Life  in  camp  is  generally  dull  with  me,  and  I  feel  espe- 
cially dull  to-day.  I  have  sometimes  had  a  job,  such  as 
road-making  at  Centreville  or  my  late  excursion  to  the 
Potomac,  which  kept  me  busy  enough ;  but  these  only  hap- 
pen now  and  then,  and  but  for  them  my  life  would  be  idle 
enough,  I  am  sure.  When  here  in  camp  it  really  seems 
that  I  have  no  way  of  employing  myself.  I  sometimes 
think  I  would  prefer  a  more  active  campaign,  winter  as 
it  is.  With  my  stock  of  bed-clothes  I  think  I  could  sleep 
quite  comfortably  even  at  this  season  in  a  fence  corner, 
but  it  would  not  be  so  comfortable  to  the  soldiers,  who  are 
not  so  well  provided  with  such  means  of  a  comfortable 
night's  rest.  If  the  weather  continues  open  and  the  cold 
not  too  severe,  I  think  it  possible  we  may  have  some  activ- 
ity in  our  operations  this  winter.  But  of  this  no  one  can 
speak  with  any  certainty  but  Jackson,  and  even  he  with 
but  little,  as  his  operations  depend  upon  contingencies 
over  which  he  has  no  control. 

I  sometimes  look  to  the  future  with  much  despondency. 
I  think  most  of  our  volunteers  will  quit  the  service  when 
their  year  expires,  and  the  news  I  get  from  Rockbridge 
gives  me  but  little  reason  to  hope  that  many  more  will 
volunteer  to  fill  the  places  thus  made  vacant  in  our  army. 
If  they  come  at  all,  I  fear  it  will  be  by  compulsion.  I  fear 
there  are  more  who  are  disposed  to  speculate  off  our 
present  troubles,  and  turn  them  to  pecuniary  profit,  than 
there  are  to  sacrifice  personal  comfort  and  pecuniary  in- 
terest and  risk  life  itself  for  the  promotion  of  our  cause. 
My  judgment  dictates  to  me  to  pursue  the  path  which  I 
believe  to  be  right,  and  to  trust  that  the  good  deed  may 
meet  with  its  just  reward.     Nothing  else  could  induce  me 


MEMOIE  AND  MEMORIALS  37 

to  bear  this  sad  separation  from  my  darling  wife  and 
dear  little  children.  This  distresses  me.  I  care  nothing 
for  the  exposure  and  hardships  of  the  service.  But,  Love, 
I  should  be  more  cheerful,  and  if  sometimes  oppressed 
with  a  feeling  of  sadness,  should  try  to  suppress  it  from 
you ;  for  I  should  try  and  detract  nothing  from  your  hap- 
piness, which  I  fear  I  do  in  writing  in  so  sad  a  strain. 

And  now,  Love,  good-bye.  I  shall  be  glad  indeed  to 
hear  that  you  are  out  of  your  bed,  and  happier  still  to 
know,  by  a  letter  in  your  familiar  hand,  that  you  are 
nearly  well  and  out  of  danger.  When  the  winter  sets  in 
so  cold  that  there  can  be  no  possible  use  for  my  services 
here,  I  shall  try  and  get  leave  to  spend  a  week  with  you  at 
home.    I  don't  think  that  snow  can  keep  off  much  longer. 


Winchester,  December  22,  1861. 

We  left  here,  on  an  expedition  to  the  Potomac,  on  last 
Monday  morning  at  seven  o  'clock,  and  returned  again  this 
evening.  We  lost  one  man,  Joshua  Parks,  killed  by  the 
enemy ;  and  his  body,  I  suppose,  has  by  this  time  reached 
his  friends  in  Lexington  to  whom  it  was  sent  for  burial. 
Present  my  kind  regard  to  Mrs.  Parks,  and  say  to  her 
that  I  heartily  sympathize  in  the  sad  bereavement  which 
has  fallen  upon  her.  He  was  a  brave  and  good  man,  uni- 
versally esteemed  and  beloved  by  his  comrades,  and  his 
loss  is  much  deplored. 

Whilst  gone  we  slept  without  our  tents  four  nights.  I 
had  plenty  of  blankets,  and  slept  as  sound  as  if  I  had 
been  in  quarters.  I  really  could  not  have  thought  I  could 
stand  so  much  exposure  with  so  little  inconvenience.  I 
think,  if  my  health  continues  to  improve  under  such  out- 
door life,  I  will  soon  be  able  to  stand  anything  but  ball 
and  shell.  I  received  Helen's  letter,  for  which  give  her 
my  thanks.  I  was  delighted  to  hear  that  our  baby  is  well 
and  growing,  and  that  you  are  improving  rapidly.  I  am 
much  gratified,  too,  at  your  pressing  invitation  to  come 


38  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

home.  I  believe,  Love,  you  must  want  to  see  me.  It  has 
been  my  purpose  to  ask  for  a  furlough  as  soon  as  winter 
had  fairly  set  in  so  as  to  render  active  operations  im- 
practicable. To-day  was  very  cold,— so  cold  that  we  all 
had  to  get  off  our  horses  and  make  the  greater  part  of  the 
march  on  foot.  To-night  we  have  sleet  and  snow,  which, 
I  think,  will  pass  for  winter,  especially  as  it  now  wants 
only  three  days  of  Christmas.  So,  Love,  I  shall  ask  for  a 
furlough  some  time  this  week,  and,  if  I  can  get  it,  will  be 
off  for  home.  And  if  you  hear  a  loud  rap  at  the  door 
some  night  before  long,  you  need  not  think  robbers  are 
breaking  in,  but  that  your  own  dear  husband  is  coming 
home  to  see  wife  and  little  ones,  dearer  to  him  than 
everything  else  on  earth.  But,  Love,  you  must  not  cal- 
culate with  too  much  certainty  on  seeing  me.  If  I  can  get 
the  leave  I  will,  but  that  is  not  a  certainty. 

I  hope  you  all  may  have  a  happy  Christmas,  and  wish  I 
had  the  means  of  sending  some  nuts  and  candy  for  Mat- 
thew and  Galla.  Many  who  spent  last  Christmas  with 
wife  and  children  at  home  will  be  missing  this  time— per- 
haps to  join  the  happy  group  in  merry  Christmas  never 
again.  But  let  us  be  hopeful— at  least  share  the  effort  to 
merit  fulfilment  and  fruition  of  the  hopes  we  cherish  so 
fondly.  Now,  dearest,  good-bye  till  I  see  you  again,  or 
write.    A  kiss  to  the  children  as  my  Christmas  gift. 


Winchester,  December  26, 1861. 

I  applied  to-day  for  a  furlough,  but  was  much  disap- 
pointed to  find  that  an  order  has  been  made  that  none 
shall  be  granted.  I  was  promising  myself  much  happi- 
ness in  spending  a  few  days  with  you  at  New  Year's,  and 
am  much  grieved  that  it  has  to  be  deferred— I  hope,  how- 
ever, not  very  long.  I  will  come  as  soon  as  I  can  get  per- 
mission. Fair  weather  cannot  last  much  longer,  and  win- 
ter must  soon  set  in,  which  will  stop  active  operations,  and 
then  I  suppose  I  can  get  leave  to  go  home  for  a  while.    I 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  39 

will  make  this  note  short  so  as  to  try  and  get  it  in  to-day's 
mail.  Your  box  just  came  to  hand  as  I  left  the  camp  this 
morning,  for  which  accept  many  thanks.  Good-bye, 
dearest. 


Winchester,  December  29,  1861. 

The  weather  opened  this  morning  cloudy  and  showing 
signs  of  snow,  but,  much  to  my  disappointment,  the  clouds 
have  passed  off  leaving  a  clear  sky  and  pleasant  day.  It 
is  not  often  I  wish  for  bad  weather,  but  when  it  opens  a 
way  for  me  of  getting  home  for  a  little  while  I  bid  it  a 
hearty  welcome.  It  troubled  me  less  when  there  was  no 
prospect  of  getting  a  leave  of  absence  and  no  use  of  ask- 
ing it ;  but  as  I  have  been  so  anxiously  indulging  the  hope 
of  late,  it  troubles  me  much  to  have  it  deferred.  If  the 
bright  sunshine  of  to-day  is  destined  to  last,  you  need  not 
expect  me,  for  Jackson  is  not  disposed  to  lie  idle  when 
there  is  an  opportunity  to  win  laurels  for  himself  and  ren- 
der service  to  our  cause.  The  arrival  of  our  forces  from 
the  West  under  Loring  has  given  him  a  very  fine  army, 
which  I  think  he  is  disposed  to  turn  to  a  very  profitable 
use  as  soon  as  an  occasion  may  offer  itself.  I  have  much 
reason  to  be  gratified  at  the  proofs  of  his  good  opinion 
and  confidence  which  I  am  continually  receiving  from  him. 
I  can  rely  upon  his  influence  and  efforts  for  my  promo- 
tion, but  my  ambition  does  not  run  in  that  direction.  The 
sympathies  of  my  heart  and  my  aspirations  for  the  future 
are  all  absorbed  in  the  wife  and  little  ones  left  at  home, 
and  my  highest  ambition  is  to  spend  my  life  there  in  peace 
and  quiet.  The  hope  of  winning  military  titles  and  dis- 
tinction could  not  tempt  me  to  leave  home,  if  I  were  left  to 
consult  my  wishes  and  feelings  alone.  But  the  sense  of 
public  duty  which  prompts  us,  and  the  strong  public  senti- 
ment which  forces  us,  to  leave  our  homes  and  families  for 
the  public  service,  now  with  equal  force  compels  us  to  re- 
main.   If  we  left  the  army  now,  it  would  be  at  the  sacri- 


40  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

fice  of  such  good  opinion  as  we  have  of  ourselves  and  the 
good  opinion  entertained  of  us  by  our  neighbors  and 
friends  at  home.  Our  term  of  service  will  expire  in  May, 
when  each  will  be  left  to  pursue  for  himself  such  course 
as  duty  and  inclination  may  then  determine.  It  is  sad, 
indeed,  to  think  of  being  a  stranger  in  my  own  home,  that 
wife  and  children  are  becoming  used  to  my  absence  and 
forced  by  it  to  seek  other  sources  of  happiness  than  that 
which  we  used  to  have  when  the  society  of  each  other  was 
the  greatest  source  of  enjoyment.  When  separation  is  so 
long  protracted  it  seems  akin  to  that  which  lasts  forever, 
when  the  body  has  gone  to  its  long  home  in  the  grave  and 
the  soul  for  weal  or  woe  to  eternity,  when  the  loved  left 
behind  to  mourn  our  loss  are  no  longer  left  a  hope,  and 
after  a  while  become  used  to  the  desolation  which  death 
has  left  them.  But  hope  whispers,  Love,  that  all  may  yet 
be  well  with  us.  The  storm  may  pass  away,  and,  living 
happily  together  in  after  years,  it  will  be  a  source  of  pride 
and  happiness  to  us  that  the  duty  patriotism  exacts  of  me 
now  has  been  faithfully  discharged,  and  the  pleasure  and 
comfort  of  home  for  the  time  foregone. 

I  wrote  you  a  long  business  letter  on  Friday,  in  which 
you  will  think,  no  doubt,  I  have  marked  out  work  enough 
to  keep  you  employed  next  year.  You  will  be  too  busy  to 
think  of  me  and  the  troubles  which  this  war  is  bringing  on 
us.  Now,  darling,  as  my  half  sheet  is  finished  I  will  bid 
you  good-bye.  Kiss  my  three  little  baby  boys  for  me,  and 
send  me  your  likeness— the  old  one  which  I  used  to  have- 
by  the  first  person  who  comes  from  Lexington. 

The  military  career  of  General  Paxton  during  1861,  the 
period  covered  by  the  preceding  letters,  can  be  briefly  re- 
capitulated as  follows :  He  had  entered  the  service  as  first 
lieutenant  of  Rockbridge  Rifles,  27th  Virginia  Regiment. 
At  the  battle  of  Manassas  he  had  won  the  esteem  of  Gen- 
eral Jackson  by  conspicuous  gallantry  on  the  field.  As  a 
result  of  this  he  was  assigned  to  duty  as  aide  to  General 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  41 

Jackson,  August  7,  1861.  On  September  28, 1861,  he  had 
an  offer  from  Governor  Letcher  of  a  commission  as 
major,  but  declined  because  if  he  had  accepted  it  he  would 
have  been  assigned  to  duty  at  Norfolk,  and  he  did  not  wish 
to  leave  his  brigade.  On  October  14,  1861,  he  received 
his  commission  as  major  of  his  own  regiment.  His  inti- 
mate relations  established  as  staff  officer  of  General  Jack- 
son continued  in  his  new  position,  and  he  was  several 
times  by  him  placed  in  charge  of  expeditions  and  assigned 
to  various  important  duties  detached  from  his  regiment. 
That  he  then  enjoyed  the  confidence  and  favor  of  General 
Jackson  to  a  marked  degree  is  shown  by  these  appoint- 
ments and  by  his  letters. 


CHAPTER  III 

Morgan  Co.,  January  8, 1862. 

AN  opportunity  of  sending  to  Winchester  enables  me  to 
\  write  that  I  am  here  in  the  woods,  all  hands  froze  up 
-* — *-  and  waiting  for  the  weather  to  move.  I  take  it  for 
granted  the  General  will  come  to  the  conclusion  from  this 
experiment  that  a  winter  campaign  won't  pay,  and  will 
put  us  into  winter  quarters.  I  am  quite  well  and  have  not 
suffered  much. 

linger 's  Store,  January  12,  1862. 

I  was  much  disappointed  in  not  getting  a  furlough  a  few 
days  ago.  I  could  not  help  but  think  that  as  the  condition 
of  the  weather  and  the  roads  had  made  the  expedition 
from  which  we  had  just  returned  a  failure,  it  was  full  time 
to  stop  active  operations,  and  in  that  event  I  was  entitled 
to  a  leave  of  absence,  if  they  were  to  be  granted  to  any. 
I  applied  and  was  informed  that  two  field  officers  must  be 
left  with  the  regiment,  and  that  as  a  leave  had  been  given 
to  Col.  Echols,  none  could  be  given  to  me  until  he  re- 
turned. Hardly  two  days  elapsed,  however,  until  I  re- 
ceived an  order  detaching  me  from  my  regiment  and  as- 
signing me  to  the  duties  of  a  provost-marshal  of  the  post, 
thus  leaving  but  one  field  officer  to  my  regiment.  I  have 
handed  in  my  resignation,  and  whether  that  will  be  ac- 
cepted or  not  I  do  not  know.  Jackson  entered  his  disap- 
proval of  its  acceptance,  which  will  probably  induce  the 
Secretary  of  War  and  the  Governor  to  do  the  same.  The 
disapproval,  it  is  true,  implies  the  compliment  that  my 
services  are  valued,  and  that  those  in  authority  do  not 

42 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  43 

wish  to  dispense  with  them;  but  I  do  not  feel  satisfied, 
and  the  whole  affair  gives  me  much  unhappiness.  I 
shall  endeavor  to  take  such  course  as  will  not  forfeit  the 
good  opinion  which  I  have  enjoyed  from  those  with  whom 
I  have  served,  and  at  the  same  time  try  to  be  content  with 
whatever  may  happen.  I  wish  you  to  act  upon  the  same 
principle.  Some  of  us  have  as  hard  a  road  to  travel  as 
yourself.  I  should  like  to  be  at  home,  and  know  that  you 
fondly  desire  my  return.  If  I  can't  get  home,  we  must 
both  be  satisfied.  I  wish  you  to  make  up  your  mind  to  re- 
main there,  and  take  care  of  what  we  have  as  well  as  you 
can.  You  have,  I  doubt  not,  been  as  happy  there  for  the 
last  four  or  five  months  as  you  could  have  been  elsewhere. 
With  the  work  on  the  farm,  your  housekeeping,  and  the 
children,  you  will  have  too  much  to  do  to  be  lonesome. 
Plenty  of  work  is  a  good  antidote  for  loneliness ;  a  very 
good  means  of  drowning  your  sorrows.  By  this  course 
you  will  be  of  infinite  service  to  me,  and  will  add  much  to 
your  own  comfort  and  happiness. 

If  there  is  an  honorable  road  to  get  home,  I  shall  spare 
no  effort  to  find  it  as  speedily  as  possible.  In  the  mean- 
time, Love,  devote  yourself  to  the  babies  and  the  farm, 
and  not  to  grieving  about  me  or  my  troubles.  I  will  give 
them  my  undivided  attention  and  get  through  with  them 
as  soon  as  I  can.  I  don't  wish  to  share  so  great  a  luxury 
with  you.  Now,  Love,  good-bye.  Kiss  our  dear  little 
baby  and  tell  Matthew  and  Galla  papa  says  they  must  be 
good  boys.  Remember  me  kindly  to  Jack,  Jane  and 
Phebe  (slaves).  I  am  very  grateful  to  them  for  their 
fidelity.  Tell  Jane  to  get  married  whenever  she  wishes, 
and  not  to  trouble  herself  about  the  threats  of  her  last 
husband. 


44  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 


RESIGNATION 

Camp  near  Unger's  Store,  Morgan  Co.,  Va., 

January  11,  1862. 

His  Excellency  John  Letcher,  Governor  of  Virginia. 

I  hereby  tender  my  resignation  of  the  office  of  Major 
in  the  active  volunteer  forces  of  the  State,  conferred  by 
your  commission  bearing  date  October  14,  1861.  My 
private  affairs  have  been  brought  to  such  condition  of  em- 
barrassment by  the  loss  of  valuable  property  which  I 
owned  in  Ohio,  that  my  personal  attention  to  them,  for  a 
time  at  least,  is  made  my  duty  by  a  just  regard  for  the 
claims  of  my  creditors  and  my  family.  If  other  forces 
are  called  into  the  service  of  the  State,  to  supply  the  place 
of  those  whose  terms  of  service  expire  in  a  few  months,  I 
shall  be  glad  to  have  the  offer  of  such  position  as  your 
Excellency  may  think  me  competent  to  fill  with  advantage 
to  the  public  service. 

Respectfully, 

E.  F.  Paxton, 

Major  27th  Kegt.,  Va.  Vols. 

Endorsements  on  Resignation. 


Camp  near  Unger's  Store,  January  12,  1862. 
Resignation  of  Major  E.  F.  Paxton,  27  Va.  Vols.     Ap- 


proved and  forwarded. 


Respectfully  forwarded. 


A.  J.  Grigsby, 

Lt.-Col.  Commanding  27th  Va.  Vol. 


R.  B.  Garnett, 

Brig.-Gen'l  Comdg. 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  45 

Headquarters  Valley  District 

linger 's  Store,  Morgan  Co. 

Respectfully  forwarded,  but  disapproved. 

T.  J.  Jackson, 

Maj.-Gren'l  Comdg. 

Hdqrs.  Centreville,  January  20, 1862. 

Respectfully  forwarded. 

J.  E.  Johnston, 

General. 

Reed.  A.  0. 1.,  January  22, 1862. 

Res.  returned  disapproved  by  order  of  the  Secy,  of 
War.  R.  H.  Milton, 

A.  A.  G. 

Letter  to  Gov.  Letcher. 

linger 's  Store,  January  12,  1862. 

Gov.  John  Letchee,  Richmond,  Va. 

Dear  Sir:  My  resignation,  forwarded  through  the  reg- 
ular channel,  will  reach  you  in  a  few  days.  When  it 
comes  to  hand  you  will  treat  it  as  withdrawn.  I  feel  much 
aggrieved  by  my  inability  to  get  a  furlough,  and  by  an  un- 
just discrimination  made  against  me  in  withholding  it, 
whilst  granted  to  others.  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  is  my  duty  as  a  citizen  and  a  soldier  to  bear  the 
grievance  in  patience,  in  the  hope  that  hereafter  I  may  be 
able  to  get  such  furlough  as  will  save  me  the  necessity  of 
quitting  the  service. 

Romney,  January  19,  1862. 

We  left  linger 's  Monday  morning  and  reached  here  on 
Wednesday,  after  three  days '  hard  march  on  roads  as  bad 
as  rain,  sleet  and  snow  could  make  them.  For  some  time 
since  we  reached  here  it  has  been  raining,  and  the  whole 


46  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

country  is  flooded  with  water.  Since  we  left  Winchester 
three  weeks  ago,  we  have  indeed  been  making  war  upon 
the  elements,  and  our  men  have  stood  an  amount  of  hard- 
ship and  exposure  which  I  would  not  have  thought  was 
possible  had  I  not  witnessed  it.  In  passing  through  it  all, 
I  have  suffered  but  little,  and  my  health  is  now  as  good  as 
it  ever  was.  Whilst  this  is  true  of  myself,  our  ranks  had 
been  made  thinner  by  disease  since  we  left  Winchester. 
Two  battles  would  not  have  done  us  as  much  injury  as 
hard  weather  and  exposure  have  effected.  After  writing 
to  you  last  Sunday,  I  concluded  to  write  to  the  Governor 
to  consider  my  resignation  as  withdrawn  and  I  would 
trust  to  the  chance  of  getting  a  furlough  to  go  home.  I 
am  promised  it  as  soon  as  Echols  returns,  and  his  fur- 
lough is  out  sixteen  days  from  this  time.  I  hope  Jackson 
will  have  concluded  by  that  time  that  a  winter  campaign 
is  fruitful  of  disaster  only,  as  it  has  been,  and  will  put  us 
at  rest  until  spring.     Then  I  may  expect  to  see  you. 

Now,  darling,  just  here  the  mail  has  come  to  hand, 
bringing  your  letter  of  the  15th  inst.  and  the  gratifying 
news  that  all  are  well  at  home.  You  say  the  sleet  and 
snow  were  falling  whilst  you  wrote,  and  you  felt  some 
anxiety  lest  I  might  be  exposed  to  it.  You  were  just 
about  right.  I  left  that  morning  at  daybreak  and  marched 
in  sleet  and  snow  some  fifteen  miles  to  this  place.  When 
I  got  here  the  cape  of  my  overcoat  was  a  sheet  of  ice.  If 
you  have  hard  times,  you  may  console  yourself  by  know- 
ing that  I  have  hard  times,  too.  I  am  amused  with  your 
fears  of  an  inroad  of  the  Yankees  into  Rockbridge.  Their 
nearest  force  is  about  eighty  miles  from  you,  and  if  the 
roads  in  that  section  have  not  improved  very  much,  they 
will  have  a  hard  road  to  travel.  You  all  are  easily  scared. 
By  the  time  you  had  been  near  the  Yankees  as  long  as  I 
have,  you  would  not  be  so  easily  frightened. 

You  must  come  to  the  conclusion  which  has  forced  itself 
upon  me  some  time  since.  Bear  the  present  in  patience, 
and  hope  for  the  best.    If  it  turns  out  bad,  console  our- 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  47 

selves  with  the  reflection  that  it  is  no  worse.  We  can  see 
nothing  of  the  future,  and  it  is  well  for  us  we  don't.  I 
have  but  little  idea  to-day  where  I  will  sleep  to-night,  or 
what  shall  be  doing  to-morrow.  Our  business  is  all  un- 
certainties. I  have  been  in  great  danger  only  once  since 
I  have  been  in  the  service,  yet  I  suppose  I  have  thought  a 
hundred  times  that  we  were  on  the  eve  of  a  battle  which 
might  terminate  my  life.  Now,  after  all,  Love,  I  think  it 
best  to  trouble  myself  little  with  fears  of  danger,  and  to 
find  happiness  in  the  hope  that  you  and  I  and  our  dear 
children  will  one  day  live  together  again  happily  and  in 
peace.  It  may  be,  dearest,  this  hope  will  never  be  real- 
ized, yet  I  will  cherish  it  as  my  greatest  source  of  happi- 
ness, to  be  abandoned  only  when  my  flowing  blood  and 
failing  breath  shall  teach  me  that  I  have  seen  the  last  of 
earth.    All  may  yet  be  well  with  us. 


Winchester,  January  26,  1862. 

We  left  Romney  on  Thursday,  and  after  three  days  we 
reached,  on  yesterday  evening,  our  present  encampment, 
two  miles  from  Winchester.  To-day  I  received  your 
grumbling  letter  of  21st,  in  which  you  were  bitter  over  my 
bad  usage  in  being  refused  a  furlough.  The  only  matter 
of  surprise  with  me  is  that  I  ever  lost  my  temper  about 
it,  as  I  came  to  the  conclusion  long  ago  that  there  was  no 
use  in  grumbling  about  anything  in  the  army,  and  it  was 
always  best  to  bear  in  patience  whatever  happens  us,  with 
a  becoming  sense  of  gratitude  that  it  is  no  worse.  I 
think  we  shall  remain  at  rest  here  until  spring,  no  one  be- 
ing more  thoroughly  disgusted  with  a  winter  campaign 
than  Jackson  himself  from  the  fruits  of  our  expedition  to 
Romney.  Echols '  furlough  expires  nine  days  hence,  and 
then,  I  think,  I  may  safely  promise  myself  the  happiness 
of  a  visit  home  to  enjoy  for  a  while  the  loved  society  of 
wife  and  little  ones,  from  whom  I  have  been  so  long  sepa- 
rated.   For  a  while  only,  Love,  as  my  duty  will  require  me 


48  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

to  leave  you  soon  again.  I  wish  to  pursue  such  a  course 
as  will  give  me  hereafter  a  good  opinion  of  myself  and 
the  good  opinion  of  my  neighbors,  and  neither  is  to  be  won 
by  shrinking  from  the  dangers  and  hardships  of  a  sol- 
dier 's  life  when  the  safety  of  his  country  requires  him  to 
endure  them.  But  for  this,  the  titles  and  applause  to  be 
won  by  gallantry  upon  the  field  could  never  tempt  me 
from  home.  Would  you  have  me  return  there  the  subject 
of  such  conversation  as  has  been  freely  lavished  upon 
those  who  remained  behind  and  others  who  turned  their 
backs  on  country  and  comrades  %   I  think  not. 

I  don't  think,  Love,  you  would  know  me  if  you  could 
see  me  just  now.  I  think  I  am  dirtier  than  I  ever  was  be- 
fore, and  may  be  lousy  besides.  I  have  not  changed 
clothes  for  two  weeks,  and  my  pants  have  a  hole  in  each 
leg  nearly  big  enough  for  a  dog  to  creep  through.  I  have 
been  promising  myself  the  luxury  of  soap  and  water  all 
over  and  a  change  of  clothes  to-day,  but  the  wind  blows  so 
hard  and  cold  I  really  think  I  should  freeze  in  the  opera- 
tion. I  am  afraid  the  dirt  is  striking  in,  as  I  am  some- 
what afflicted  with  the  baby's  complaint— a  pain  under  the 
apron.  I  am  not  much  afraid  of  it,  however,  as  I  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  down  a  good  dinner,  which  with  me  is 
generally  a  sign  of  pretty  fair  health.  Now,  Love,  I  will 
bid  you  good-bye,  as  it  is  very  cold  and  uncomfortable 
writing,  leaving  the  last  side  of  my  sheet  unwritten. 

January  27,  1862. 

Yesterday  I  concluded,  after  writing  this,  to  come  to  town 
and  get  comfortable  quarters,  as  I  felt  much  inclined  to 
chill.  I  slept  pretty  well  last  night,  and  this  morning  am 
not  suffering  any  pain.  I  hope  to  be  well  in  the  course 
of  a  few  days.  Should  I  get  worse,  I  will  write  to- 
morrow. 

For  several  days  he  continued  ill  at  Winchester,  and 
this  perhaps  hastened  the  granting  of  the  greatly  desired 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  49 

furlough.  His  next  letter  shows  that  he  remained  at 
home  until  February  24,  1862,  having  been  there  perhaps 
twenty  days.  This  was  his  first  visit  home  since  entering 
the  service. 

Winchester,  February  28,  1862. 

I  reached  here  day  before  yesterday,  and  expected  to  de- 
vote yesterday  evening  to  a  letter  home ;  but  so  soon  as  I 
got  pen  and  paper  ready  to  commence  we  had  an  order  to 
change  our  camp.  My  ride  here  was  as  pleasant  as  I 
could  expect.  The  first  night  I  stayed  at  Mr.  Sproul's, 
the  next  at  Dr.  Crawford's,  the  next  at  Mr.  Williamson's, 
and  the  last  at  Strasburg,  reaching  Winchester  about 
twelve  o  'clock.     Self  and  horse  both  in  good  condition. 

I  doubt  not  you  will  hear  any  quantity  of  news  before 
this  reaches  you :  that  Winchester  has  been  evacuated,  the 
enemy  approaching  in  countless  numbers  from  all  direc- 
tions, and  Jackson's  army  flying  before  him.  All  I  can 
say  is,  do  not  be  alarmed,  and  make  up  your  mind  to  bear 
in  patience  whatever  of  good  or  evil  the  future  may  have 
in  store  for  us.  Try,  so  far  as  possible,  to  divert  your 
mind  from  the  troubles  of  the  country.  The  future  is  not 
so  bright  as  it  was  before  our  late  disasters,  but  we  have 
yet  many  strong  arms  and  brave  hearts  in  the  field,  and 
should  not  despair. 

As  to  our  situation  here,  place  no  confidence  in  the  ru- 
mors which  you  may  hear.  The  enemy  yesterday  entered 
Charlestown — in  what  force  I  do  not  know,  or  for  what 
purpose.  It  may  be  to  take  possession  of  the  Baltimore 
&  Ohio  R.  R.  and  rebuild  it,  or  it  may  be  a  part  of  a  force 
intended  to  advance  on  this  place.  All  I  can  say  is:  I 
think,  unless  his  force  largely  outnumbers  ours,  we  shall 
fight  him,  and  if  it  is  overpowering  we  shall  evacuate  the 
place. 

I  write,  darling,  in  the  open  air  and  a  freezing  wind, 
and  will  bid  you  good-bye  until  my  next.  I  will  write  reg- 
ularly, so  that  my  letters  may  reach  you  Sunday  morn- 


50  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

ing  when  you  go  to  church.  Should  anything  happen  me, 
I  will  have  a  letter  written  to  your  father,  who  will  send  it 
to  you.  Kiss  the  children  for  me,  and  for  yourself,  dear- 
est, accept  all  that  a  fond  husband  can  offer. 


Winchester,  March  6, 1862. 

Your  first  letter  since  I  left  home  reached  me  on  yester- 
day, bringing  the  welcome  intelligence  that  you  were  all 
well,  and  the  intelligence,  not  less  gratifying,  that  you 
would  not  have  me  stay  at  home  whilst  the  country  has 
such  pressing  need  for  the  service  of  every  citizen  in  the 
field.  If  such  were  the  feeling  and  wish  of  every  woman 
and  child,  the  men  would  be  moved  by  nobler  impulses 
and  we  would  have  a  brighter  prospect  before  us.  •  Our 
soldiers,  impelled  by  influence  from  home,  would  all  re- 
main in  the  service,  and  those  left  behind  would  rally  to 
their  support,  instead  of  remaining  behind  until  com- 
pelled by  force  to  join  the  army  and  fight  for  the  liberties 
of  the  country.  Whatever  others  may  do,  their  delin- 
quencies will  not  justify  our  faults ;  and  you  and  I  must 
act  so  that  what  we  do  in  these  times  of  peril  and  uncer- 
tainty shall  hereafter  have  our  own  and  the  approval  of 
those  whose  good  opinion  we  value. 

We  came  to  our  present  encampment  a  week  ago,  and 
have  made  little  preparation  for  comfort,  not  knowing 
how  soon,  but  expecting  every  day,  we  might  move  again. 
I  doubt  not  you  have  heard  frequent  rumors  that  a  bat- 
tle was  imminent.  You  had  best  never  alarm  yourself 
with  such.  From  this  to  the  end  of  the  war,  I  never  ex- 
pect to  see  the  time  when  a  battle  may  not  occur  in  a  few 
days.  Hence  I  always  try  to  be  ready  for  it,  expecting  it 
as  something  through  which  I  must  pass,  which  is  not  to 
be  avoided.  The  facts,  so  far  as  I  can  learn,  are  that  the 
enemy  is  in  Charlestown.  with  considerable  force,  in  Mar- 
tinsburg  with  some  3000,  and  at  Paw-paw  tunnel  in  Mor- 
gan with  some  12,000  or  15,000.    I  think  it  very  uncertain 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  51 

whether  an  advance  upon  Winchester  is  intended  at  this 
time.  Their  purpose  in  crossing  the  river  is  probably  to 
rebuild  the  railroad.  When  this  is  done  we  shall  probably 
be  attacked  here.  If  the  force  of  the  enemy  is  far  supe- 
rior to  our  own,— and  it  probably  will  be,  I  think,— we 
shall  retire  from  the  place  without  making  a  defence.  So 
don't  be  alarmed  at  any  rumors  you  may  hear. 

Since  my  return  we  have  had  a  very  idle  time.  My 
duty  is  to  take  charge  of  the  regiment  in  the  absence  of  the 
Colonel,  and  as  he  is  here  I  have  nothing  at  all  to  do.  I 
am  very  anxious  to  get  a  job  of  some  sort  which  will  give 
me  occupation. 

The  wish  which  lies  nearest  my  heart  is  for  your  com- 
fort and  happiness  in  my  absence.  I  will  write  regularly 
so  that  you  will  get  my  letters  on  Sunday  morning  when 
you  go  to  church.  As  soon  as  you  hear  what  was  the  fate 
of  Brother 's  two  boys  at  Fort  Donelson,  write  me  about  it. 

Strasburg,  March  13,  1862. 

I  doubt  not  you  have  heard  of  many  bloody  battles,  actual 
and  anticipated,  about  Winchester  for  the  last  few  days, 
and,  if  you  credited  every  flying  rumor,  have  been  some- 
what apprehensive  of  my  safety.  You  will  then,  I  doubt 
not,  be  surprised  to  hear  that  we  have  had  no  fight ;  none 
killed  except  perhaps  one  or  two  of  our  cavalry  pickets ; 
none  captured  except  some  thirty  or  forty  who  stayed  be- 
hind in  Winchester,  many  of  them,  I  doubt  not,  wishing  to 
be  taken.  Twice  since  my  last  letter  we  have  had  every 
reason  to  expect  an  engagement.  Last  Friday  evening 
the  long  roll,  always  a  signal  for  battle,  was  sounded  and 
the  regiment  formed  under  arms.  We  marched  out  and 
took  our  position  and  remained  there  for  a  day,  but  the 
enemy  did  not  come  up.  On  Tuesday  evening  the  long 
roll  was  beaten  again,  and  we  took  our  position,  the  enemy 
having  advanced  his  whole  force  within  two  or  three  miles 
of  us.    We  remained  there  until  dark,  but  were  not  at- 


52  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

tacked.  Then  we  moved  back  five  miles  on  the  pike,  and 
yesterday  morning  came  to  this  place.  Here  we  are,  and 
what  next?  Will  we  continue  our  retreat  or  fight?  No 
one  knows.  Jackson  always  shows  fight,  and  hence  we 
never  know  what  he  means.  Don't  suffer  yourself  to  be 
alarmed  by  any  rumors  which  you  read  or  hear.  So  soon 
as  we  have  an  engagement,  if  I  get  out  of  it,  I  will  write 
to  you,  enclosing  the  letter  to  your  father,  requesting  him 
to  send  it  out  immediately.  So  soon  as  we  have  an  en- 
gagement, everybody  will  be  writing  letters,  and,  I  doubt 
not,  your  father  will  send  you  immediately  any  reliable 
news  that  may  come. 

The  militia,  I  see  from  the  papers,  are  called  out,  and 
John  Fitzgerald  will  have  to  go.  Give  him  the  shot-gun 
to  take  with  him.  I  don't  know  what  you  ought  to  do  to 
supply  his  place.  Consult  with  your  father,  and  do  what 
you  think  best.  You  can  leave  the  place  and  go  to  town  if 
you  do  not  feel  safe  there.  Your  happiness,  Love,  I  value 
and  wish  to  secure  above  everything  else. 


Mount  Jackson,  March  19, 1862. 

We  left  our  encampment  near  Strasburg  last  Saturday, 
and  reached  this  place  on  Monday,  where  appearances  in- 
dicate that  we  are  settled  in  peace  and  quiet  for  a  while. 
There  is  some  skirmishing  between  our  pickets  and  those 
of  the  enemy  about  twenty  miles  from  here,  but  I  believe 
the  enemy  have  not  left  Winchester  in  any  force,  and,  I 
imagine,  will  not  until  the  roads  and  weather  will  admit 
of  an  advance  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountain  on  John- 
ston. 

The  time  passes  very  dull  with  me,  as  I  have  nothing  to 
do,  the  Colonel  and  Lieut.-Col.  of  the  regiment  both  being 
here  and  doing  what  little  there  is  to  be  done.  Some  days 
ago  I  met  with  your  sister  Martha,  who  had  come  down  to 
the  camp  to  see  Mr.  Williamson.  She  was  much  alarmed 
at  the  expected  approach  of  the  enemy,  and  in  doubt  what 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  53 

to  do.  My  advice  to  her  was  to  remain  at  home  if  they 
came,  letting  everything  go  on  as  usual.  They  would  take 
such  of  her  property  as  they  needed,  but,  I  believed, 
would  do  no  further  injury.  Their  policy,  so  far  as  I  can 
learn,  has  been,  in  Winchester  and  the  counties  which  they 
occupy,  to  conciliate  the  people.  I  doubt  not  it  will  be 
their  principle  everywhere.  I  am  glad  they  indicate  their 
purpose  to  carry  on  the  war  on  the  principles  of  civilized 
warfare,  as  it  exempts  the  women  and  children  left  at 
home  by  our  soldiers  from  the  savage  barbarities  of  their 
vengeance.  If  the  fate  of  war  brings  my  own  home  within 
their  lines,  it  will  be  some  consolation  to  know  that  you, 
my  darling  wife,  and  our  dear  little  children  are  not  sub- 
jected to  insult  and  injury  at  the  hands  of  the  invaders. 
Whilst  their  occupancy  may  deprive  me  of  the  fond  letters 
of  a  loving  wife,  giving  the  glad  news  that  all  are  well  at 
home,  which  is  now  my  greatest  source  of  happiness,  I 
shall  be  comforted  by  the  hope  and  belief  that  they  are 
left  to  enjoy  uninterrupted  the  necessary  comforts  of  life. 
Whilst  it  is  a  sad  thought  to  give  up  one's  home  to  the 
enemy,  with  many  of  us  it  is  destined  to  be  a  necessity 
which  will  contribute  more  than  all  other  causes  to  the 
ultimate  achievement  of  our  independence.  It  is  utterly 
impossible  to  defend  every  section. 

Just  here,  Love,  I  will  change  the  subject  to  say  that, 
whilst  writing,  I  have  received  your  letter  of  the  15th 
inst.  We  may  never  meet  again,  as  you  say,  Love.  We 
know  nothing  of  the  future,  but  I  trust  the  day  of  our  final 
separation  is  far  distant.  The  obituaries  which  I  find  in 
the  paper  from  home  remind  me  that  those  who  remain  at 
home,  as  well  as  those  who  have  joined  the  army,  die.  Of 
the  thousand  who  have  left  our  county  for  the  army,  I 
suppose  not  more  than  fifty  have  died  from  disease  or  in 
battle.  Nearly  as  large  a  proportion  of  those  at  home,  I 
expect,  have  died.  Life  is  uncertain  everywhere,  Love, 
and  you  should  not  infer  from  my  being  in  the  army  that 
you  and  I  may  not  see  much  of  life  together  yet.    I  am 


54  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

glad  I  can 't  turn  aside  the  dark  veil  which,  covers  the  fu- 
ture and  look  at  the  good  and  evil  in  store  for  me. 

I  am  sorry  that  Galla  had  the  luck  to  break  the  likeness, 
but  glad  that  I  have  a  place  in  the  dear  little  fellow's 
memory  and  that  he  wanted  to  see  his  papa.  I  am  glad, 
too,  to  learn  that  you  have  found  in  little  Mary  Fitzgerald 
a  post-office  messenger,  and  that  you  can  get  the  papers 
and  my  letters  without  sending  one  of  the  hands  and  stop- 
ping work  oh  the  farm  for  the  purpose.  I  have  hereto- 
fore written  so  that  my  letters  would  reach  you  on  Sunday 
when  you  went  to  church,  but  now  I  can  write  at  any  time. 
I  felt  gratified  to  learn  that  Fitz  was  exempt  from  the 
militia  draft,  although  it  was  selfish  and  unpatriotic,  as  he 
would  make  a  good  soldier.  I  am  very  anxious  that  you 
should  be  comfortable  and  contented  at  home ;  and  as  he 
is  so  faithful  and  industrious,  I  am  sure  he  will  be  of  great 
service  to  you,  and  that  you  will  feel  much  safer  from  his 
being  there. 

And  now,  Love,  as  I  have  some  matters  requiring  my 
attention  this  evening,  I  will  bid  you  good-bye  and  bring 
my  letter  to  a  close.  Give  a  kiss  to  the  dear  little  boys 
for  me,  and  for  yourself  accept  my  best  love. 

Near  Winchester  (Kernstoivn),  March  23,  1862. 

We  have  had  a  severe  fight  to-day  and  are  pretty  badly 
whipped.     I  am  uninjured. 


Mount  Jackson,  Wednesday,  March  26, 1862. 

The  robins  on  the  trees  around  me  sing  merrily  this  morn- 
ing, as  if  this  part  of  the  world  was  enjoying  its  usual 
quiet,  and  the  soldiers  are  laughing  and  talking  as  cheer- 
fully as  if  apprehension  of  danger  and  alarm  for  the  fu- 
ture was  the  last  of  their  thoughts.  Since  last  Thursday, 
when  we  started  towards  Winchester,  we  have  had  excit- 
ing times.    We  were  engaged  on  Sunday  in  a  fiercer 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  55 

struggle,  more  obstinately  maintained  on  our  side,  than 
that  at  Manassas  last  July.  The  battle  between  the  in- 
fantry, the  artillery  having  been  engaged  in  firing  some 
time  before,  commenced  about  five  o'clock  and  ended 
about  six  o'clock,  when  our  line  gave  way  and  retreated 
in  disorder  to  our  wagons,  about  four  miles  from  the 
battle-field.  Our  loss  in  killed,  wounded  and  missing,  I 
suppose,  may  reach  400.  Col.  Echols  had  his  arm  broken. 
The  next  morning  after  the  battle  we  left  in  good  order 
about  ten  o  'clock,  and  came  some  seven  miles  in  this  direc- 
tion, where  we  encamped  and  cooked  dinner.  Before  we 
left  the  enemy  appeared  with  their  cannon,  and  as  we 
were  leaving  commenced  firing  upon  us.  One  of  their 
shells  burst  in  our  regiment,  killing  four  and  wounding 
several  more.  We  came  that  night— Monday— to  Wood- 
stock, and  on  yesterday  came  here,  some  ten  miles  farther. 
We  keep  some  artillery  and  cavalry  in  our  rear,  close  to 
the  lines  of  the  enemy,  who  check  his  advance  and  keep  us 
advised  of  what  is  going  on.  We  remain  on  our  encamp- 
ment with  wagons  packed  and  everything  in  order  to  move 
until  the  afternoon,  when  we  move  back.  To  you  this 
would  seem  exciting,  yet  the  soldiers  sit  around  in  squads, 
laughing  and  talking  as  if  they  enjoyed  the  sport.  I  think 
it  likely,  if  the  enemy  advances,  we  will  retreat  up  towards 
Staunton.  His  force  which  we  engaged  at  Winchester 
was  some  15,000,  according  to  the  best  estimate  we  can 
get  of  it,  whilst  ours  did  not  exceed  4000.  I  think  we  will 
not  venture  on  a  battle  against  such  odds,  but  will  wait  for 
reinforcements  and  continue  to  retire  if  we  are  pressed. 
You  may  be  certain  to  hear  from  me  if  I  get  out  safe  from 
another  engagement. 

Bivouac  near  Woodstock,  April  1,  1862. 

Last  Thursday  I  received  an  order  from  Gen.  Jackson  to 
take  charge  of  four  companies  and  report  to  Col.  Ashby 
for  duty  on  the  advance-guard.    I  go  down  occasionally  to 


56  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

take  a  view  of  the  enemy's  pickets,  but  most  of  the  time 
have  been  lying  idle.  The  enemy  are  encamped  around 
Strasburg  and  for  some  four  miles  this  side,  where  they 
seem  disposed  to  remain  quiet  for  the  present.  The  whole 
country  here  bears  the  appearance  of  a  funeral,  every- 
thing is  so  quiet.  In  a  ride  yesterday  along  our  lines,  I 
scarcely  saw  any  person  moving  about,  and  all  work  on 
the  farms  seemed  suspended ;  many  of  the  houses  seemed 
to  be  deserted.  The  soldiers  alone  seem  to  exhibit  the 
appearance  of  contentment  and  happiness.  A  mode  of 
life  which  once  seemed  so  strange  and  unnatural  habit 
has  made  familiar  to  us,  and  if  peace  ever  comes  many  of 
them  will  be  disqualified  for  a  life  of  industry. 

I  have  seen,  in  a  Baltimore  paper,  a  list  of  the  prisoners 
taken  from  the  battle  at  Winchester.  It  is  very  gratifying 
to  find  that  some  are  captured  whose  fate  was  involved  in 
doubt.  Among  them  I  am  pleased  to  find  the  name  of 
Charley  Rollins,  whom  I  saw  upon  the  field  behaving 
very  gallantly.  Send  word  to  his  mother  if  you  have 
an  opportunity.  Capt.  Morrison  and  Lieut.  Lyle  of  the 
College  Company  are  on  the  list.  Two  captains  and  one 
lieut.  were  captured  from  our  regiment.  Our  loss  in  killed 
and  wounded  and  captured,  I  expect,  will  reach  500.  I  do 
not  think  we  had  over  2500  men  engaged,  whilst  the  enemy 
probably  had  four  times  the  number,  consisting,  for  the 
most  part,  of  troops  which  have  been  in  service  for  the 
last  year  under  Rosecrans  in  Western  Virginia,  than 
whom  they  have  no  better  troops  in  the  field.  I  never  ex- 
pect to  see  troops  fight  better  than  ours  did.  Our  force  is 
rapidly  increasing  from  the  militia  who  are  coming  in 
and  will  be  used  in  filling  up  the  volunteer  companies. 
Many  of  those  sick  and  absent  on  furlough  are  returning, 
and  with  all,  I  think,  we  will  have  a  force  sufficient  to 
meet  the  enemy  with  success.  Until  our  force  is  increased 
and  reorganized,  I  think  we  shall  continue  to  retreat  with- 
out another  battle. 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  57 

Mount  Jackson,  April  2,  1862. 

I  stopped  here  on  yesterday  with  the  news  that  the  enemy 
were  advancing,  and  very  soon  got  an  order  to  move.  We 
are  now  settled  four  miles  north  of  New  Market.  Verily, 
it  is  a  moving  life  we  lead. 

McDowell,  May  9, 1862. 

Before  this  reaches  you,  you  will  have  heard  alarming 
rumors  of  the  fight  on  yesterday,  and  feel,  I  know,  much 
anxiety  for  my  safety.  I  was  not  hurt,  for  the  reason  that 
I  was  not  in  the  fight.  No  part  of  our  brigade  was  en- 
gaged, the  enemy  being  whipped  off  the  field  before  it 
came.  But  little,  if  any,  more  than  one-third  our  forces 
were  engaged.  The  fight  began  late  in  the  evening  in  an 
unexpected  attack  from  the  enemy,  and  lasted  about  an 
hour.  Our  loss,  I  expect,  will  reach  60  killed  and  300 
wounded.  They  began  their  retreat  early  this  morning 
in  the  direction  of  Pendleton  County.  We  pursued  them 
to-day  some  twelve  or  fifteen  miles,  capturing  six  or  seven 
persons.  They  left  a  considerable  quantity  of  tents  and 
provisions,  but  burned  most  of  them.  I  am  indebted  to 
this  source  for  the  sheet  upon  which  I  write. 

Well,  you  want  to  know  when  we  are  going  to  have 
another  fight?  There  is  no  telling,  but  I  think  to-morrow 
we  shall  take  the  end  of  the  road  which  leads  to  Harri- 
sonburg. I  saw  Matthew  after  the  fight  was  over,  and  he, 
like  myself,  I  suppose  had  not  been  in  it.  The  cadets  were 
behind  our  brigade,  and,  though  I  have  not  seen  White 
Williamson,  he  is,  I  doubt  not,  unhurt  except  by  the 
hard  march.  The  company  from  Brownsburg,  formerly 
Carey's,  suffered  very  severely,  the  captain,  Whitmore, 
being  killed  and  one  of  the  lieutenants  severely  wounded. 

I  left  Staunton  the  day  I  wrote  to  you  last  week  and 
joined  the  army  at  Port  Republic.  Since  then  we  have 
been  marching  every  day  but  one  which  we  spent  in  Staun- 
ton.   And  now,  darling,  I  will  bid  you  good-bye. 


58  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

Friday,  May  16,  1862. 

I  don 't  know  where  to  date  my  letter.  We  left  Highland 
yesterday,  and  are  now  on  the  road  to  Harrisonburg, 
seven  or  eight  miles  from  the  Augusta  line.  We  have  had 
three  days '  rain,  and  still  a  cloudy  sky  threatening  more 
rain.  The  road  is  now  very  bad,  and  as  every  wagon 
which  passes  makes  it  deeper,  it  will  soon  be  impassable. 
The  weather  is  worse  upon  us  than  last  winter.  Then  the 
ground  was  frozen  and  we  had  the  satisfaction  at  least  of 
being  dry — having  dry  clothes  and  dry  blankets.  But  now 
everything  is  wet  and  we  have  no  tents.  It  has  had  no 
happy  effect  upon  my  health.  Yesterday  I  left  the  bri- 
gade to  stay  in  a  house  a  few  days,  but  think  I  shall  join  it 
again  to-morrow. 

We  had  constant  expectation  of  a  fight  while  we  were 
in  Pendleton.  We  supposed  Jackson  would  certainly 
make  the  attack  on  the  morning  after  we  reached  Frank- 
lin, and  every  one  was  surprised  when  we  turned  to  march 
in  this  direction.  No  one  ever  knows  where  he  is  going 
or  what  his  plans  are.  I  suppose  his  destination  now  is 
the  Valley,  where  he  will  consolidate  with  Ewell  and  move 
towards  Winchester.  But  at  present,  I  think,  he  will  be 
disposed  to  give  his  troops  a  week's  rest.  They  need  it 
badly,  as  they  have  been  marching  for  nearly  three  weeks 
since  they  left  their  last  encampment. 

We  have  not  yet  had  an  election  in  our  regiment  for 
field  officers,  and  I  feel  more  unsettled  than  ever  before. 
I  am  not  sure  that  I  will  be  elected,  and  not  sure  that  I 
will  not.  If  I  were  elected  by  a  mere  majority,  and  knew 
that  I  did  not  have  the  good-will  of  a  large  portion  of  my 
regiment,  I  am  not  sure  that  I  would  want  the  place.  I 
have  been  absent  from  the  regiment  on  detached  service 
of  one  kind  and  another,  and  when  with  them  I  have 
always  been  disposed  to  be  rather  rigid.  The  two  causes 
combined  have  not  given  me  a  strong  hold  upon  their 
affections.     So  you  see  I  am  rather  perplexed  with  doubts 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  59 

—don't  know  which  end  of  the  road  to  take,  if  either. 
Whatever  be  the  result,  I  trust  I  shall  do  nothing  to 
forfeit  the  good  opinion  of  my  friends;  and  if  I  return 
home,  it  will  be  for  reasons  which  now  and  hereafter  shall 
meet  the  approval  of  my  judgment.  I  wish  heartily  the 
election  was  over  and  I  knew  my  destiny. 

The  election  was  soon  after  this  held  under  what  was 
known  as  the  "Disorganization  Act"  of  the  Confederate 
Congress,  and  Major  Paxton,  with  many  other  officers 
whose  strict  and  wholesome  discipline  was  not  relished 
by  their  men,  failed  to  be  reelected.  He  was  thus  relieved 
from  any  further  obligation  to  continue  in  the  service,  but 
his  heart  was  too  much  in  the  cause  to  permit  him  to 
abandon  the  army  at  such  a  time.  He  accepted  a  place 
on  the  staff  of  his  old  commander,  General  Jackson,  as  a 
volunteer  aide  without  pay,  and  in  this  capacity  took  part 
in  the  seven  days'  fight  before  Richmond.  After  a  brief 
visit  to  his  home,  on  July  22, 1862,  he  returned  to  the  army 
to  resume  his  position  as  volunteer  aide  on  Jackson's 
staff. 


Camp  near  Gordonsville,  July  23, 1862. 

I  reached  here  on  yesterday,  and  now  hold  the  place  which 
I  had  when  I  left— volunteer  aide  to  Gen.  Jackson.  The 
position  is  very  agreeable,  and  the  only  objection  to  it 
is  that  I  draw  no  pay  and  pay  my  own  expenses.  I  feel 
quite  at  home,  and  am  entirely  satisfied  to  spend  the  rest 
of  the  war  in  this  position.  Everything  here  seems  so 
quiet.  The  troops  are  drilling,  and  there  is  every  indica- 
tion that  the  troops  will  rest  here  for  some  time.  Con- 
sidering the  severe  hardships  through  which  they  have 
passed  since  the  war  began,  it  is  very  much  needed. 
Everything  has  a  happy,  quiet  appearance,  such  as  I  have 
not  seen  in  the  army  since  we  were  in  camp  this  time  last 
year  after  the  battle  of  Manassas. 


60  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

I  am  sorry  to  have  left  you  with  so  much  work  on  hand, 
but  hope  you  may  bear  it  patiently.  There  is  more  need 
now  than  ever  that  as  much  should  be  made  from  the 
farm  as  possible,  as  I  am  drawing  no  pay.  And  now, 
darling,  good-bye.  I  will  write  you  frequently  and  let  you 
know  how  I  am  getting  along.  I  hope  you  will  be  as  con- 
tented and  happy  as  possible,  and  manage  matters  just 
as  you  please,  and  I  will  be  satisfied. 


August  3, 1862. 

For  some  days  I  have  been  expecting  that  every  mail 
would  bring  me  a  letter  from  home,  but  have  been  dis- 
appointed. I  am  sure  a  letter  is  on  the  way,  and  that  you 
would  not  sutler  two  weeks  to  pass  without  writing  to 
me.  I  wrote  to  you  some  ten  days  ago,  just  after  I  got 
here.  It  may  be  this  did  not  reach  you,  and  you  do  not 
know  where  I  am.  I  am  getting  to  feel  used  to  the  army 
and  to  the  idea  of  staying  in  it  until  I  see  the  end  of  the 
war,  or  it  sees  the  end  of  me.  The  work  entrusted  to  me 
is  highly  honorable  and  very  agreeable.  I  think  it  will 
be  sufficient  to  keep  me  employed  and  make  me  as  happy 
as  I  have  ever  been  in  the  service.  The  only  objection 
to  it  is  that  my  labor  is  gratuitous  and  I  draw  no  pay. 
I  shall  try  and  make  my  expense  account  as  small  as  pos- 
sible. The  army  is  more  quiet  than  I  have  ever  known  it. 
The  enemy  have  considerable  force  some  thirty  or  forty 
miles  from  us,  amounting  possibly  to  30,000  men.  Their 
cavalry  and  ours  are  occasionally  skirmishing,  and  yester- 
day had  quite  a  severe  engagement  with  one  of  our  regi- 
ments at  Orange  C.  H.  They  are  said  to  have  had  some 
three  regiments  against  our  one,  and,  so  far  as  I  can 
learn,  we  got  the  worst  of  it.  No  very  serious  damage, 
however,  as  our  killed  and  wounded  are  only  fifteen. 

To-day— Sunday— is  very  quiet,  and  reminds  me  much 
of  a  Sunday  at  home,  the  usual  work  being  suspended. 
Formerly  everything  went  on  as  usual  on  any  day,  but 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  61 

now  the  drills  and  ordinary  work  of  the  week  are  sus- 
pended on  Sunday.  Whilst  employment  here  will  make 
me  contented,  for  there  is  no  use  in  grieving  about  what 
must  be  borne,  yet  I  heartily  wish  that  I  was  at  home  with 
you  and  our  dear  little  children.  Affection  and  sympathy 
attract  me  towards  home  as  the  dearest  place  on  earth, 
but  duty  to  my  country  and  respect  for  my  own  manhood 
require  that  I  should  forego  this  happiness  until  the  war 
ends— as  end  it  must,  sooner  or  later.  I  trust,  darling, 
that  you  will  be  as  contented  and  happy  as  you  can  under 
the  circumstances.  The  inconveniences  to  which  you  are 
subjected  are  just  the  same  which  all  other  ladies  have  to 
bear.  You,  at  least,  have  all  the  comforts  of  home  and 
necessaries  of  life,  whilst  the  wife  and  little  ones  of  many 
a  gallant  man  in  the  service  are  exiles  from  their  homes 
or  without  the  necessaries  of  life.  It  is  a  poor  consolation 
for  your  own  troubles  that  others  have  worse;  but  it  is 
alike  the  dictate  of  piety  and  virtue  to  bear  them  in  pa- 
tience, and  thus  show  that  you  merit  a  better  fate.  The 
war  must  end  some  day.  We  may  never  live  to  see  it.  But 
we  owe  to  ourselves  to  cherish  the  hope  that  we  may  one 
day  live  happily  together  again,  and  there  will  be  bright 
sunshine  after  the  storm  which  now  envelops  us. 

Fairfax  C.  H.,  September  1,  1862. 

My  Darling  Wife:  I  have  only  time  to  say  that  we  were 
fighting  on  Wednesday,  Thursday,  Friday  and  Saturday, 
and  that  I  am  well.  The  last  was  a  very  severe  battle  and 
in  large  force.  The  enemy  was  badly  routed.  His  force 
consisted  of  the  armies  of  McClellan  and  Pope  united. 
Ever  yours. 

General  Paxton  had  just  taken  an  active  part  in  the 
battle  which  has  since  been  known  as  the  battle  of  Second 
Manassas  when  this  characteristic  note  was  written.  The 
report  of  General  Jackson  upon  these  battles  makes  men- 


62  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

tion  of  him  as  follows:  "In  the  prompt  transmission  of 
orders  (Cedar  Mountain)  great  assistance  was  received 
from  Maj.  E.  F.  Paxton,  Acting  Asst.  Adj. -Gen '1.  .  .  . 
Desiring  to  avoid  delay,  I  directed  my  Acting  Asst.  Adj.- 
Genl.  to  order  Jackson's  Division  forward."  "In  the 
transmission  of  orders  (2nd  Manassas)  I  was  greatly  as- 
sisted during  the  expedition  by  the  following  members  of 
my  staff:  Col.  A.  Smart,  Asst.  Insp.  Genl. ;  Maj.  E.  F. 
Paxton,  Acting  Asst.  Adj.-Genl." 


Frederick,  Md.,  Sunday,  September  7, 1862. 

Your  two  last  letters  came  to  hand  yesterday,  and  I  was 
indeed  very  happy  to  hear  from  you.  The  date  of  my 
letter  will  surprise  you.  You  would  have  thought  it 
hardly  possible  that  the  fortunes  of  war  should  have  so 
turned  in  our  favor  that  this  quiet  Sabbath  would  find  us 
here  quietly  encamped  beyond  the  limits  of  our  own  Con- 
federacy. It  has  cost  us  much  of  our  best  blood  and  much 
hardship,  but  it  is  a  magnificent  result,  which,  I  trust, 
will  secure  our  recognition  in  Europe,  and  be  a  step  at 
least  towards  peace  with  our  enemies.  We  left  the  Rap- 
pahannock two  weeks  ago  to-morrow,  and  such  a  week  as 
the  first  was  has  no  parallel  in  the  war.  Two  days' 
severe  march  brought  us  about  fifty  miles  to  Manassas. 
That  night  we  had  an  engagement  with  the  enemy,  in 
which  the  place  was  captured  and  some  prisoners.  The 
next  day  there  was  another  battle,  in  which  Mr.  Newman 
was  wounded.  That  night— Wednesday— we  evacuated 
the  place  and  took  up  our  position  adjoining  the  old  bat- 
tle-ground, and  that  evening  we  had  another  severe  en- 
gagement, in  which  Maj  .-Gen.  Ewell  was  severely 
wounded  and  our  loss  very  heavy.  The  next  day— Friday 
— we  were  attacked  by  the  enemy  in  much  larger  force, 
but  we  repulsed  the  enemy  and  at  night  both  armies  oc- 
cupied about  the  same  ground.    We  expected  the  battle 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  63 

to  be  renewed  the  next  morning.  The  enemy  had  time  to 
collect  his  whole  force,  Pope  and  McClellan  combined, 
and  we  had  brought  up  all  we  had  on  this  side  of  the  Rap- 
pahannock. For  a  while,  the  lines  were  unusually  quiet, 
but  after  a  while  the  picket-firing  began  to  increase,  and 
soon  the  whole  line  was  engaged.  The  assault  upon  our 
line  was  very  severe,  and  for  a  while  the  tide  of  bat- 
tle seemed  to  turn  against  us;  but  our  men  stubbornly 
resisted  the  assault,  and  soon  the  enemy's  line  gave  way, 
flying  in  confusion,  our  artillery  playing  upon  them  as 
they  retreated.  Our  lines  were  then  pushed  forward, 
and  by  night  the  enemy  was  driven  from  every  position. 
It  was  a  splendid  victory,  partly  fought  on  the  same 
ground  with  the  battle  of  Manassas  last  year.  We  sus- 
tained a  very  heavy  loss,  but  how  much  I  have  no  idea. 
The  next  day  we  moved  towards  Fairfax  C.  H.  The 
next  day — Monday — we  had  another  severe  engagement. 
Tuesday  we  spent  at  rest  and  in  cooking.  Wednesday 
we  started  in  this  direction,  and  reached  here  early  on 
yesterday,  without  meeting  any  further  obstruction.  What 
next— where  do  we  go— and  what  is  to  be  done?  We  will 
probably  know  by  the  end  of  next  week  what  our  General 
means  to  do  with  us.  I  think  it  likely  we  will  not  stay 
here,  and  that  this  time  next  week  will  find  us  either  in 
Pennsylvania  or  Baltimore. 

I  heartily  wish  with  you  that  the  war  was  over  and  we 
were  all  at  home  again.  But  our  success  depends  upon 
the  pertinacity  with  which  we  stick  to  the  fight.  I  think  it 
may  not  last  through  another  winter.  I  spend  but  little 
time  now  thinking  about  business  on  the  farm.  I  trust 
it  all  to  you.  My  duties  here  are  onerous  and  responsible, 
occupying  my  time  and  mind  so  completely  that  I  have 
but  little  opportunity  to  think  of  much  else.  Not  enough, 
however,  to  keep  me  from  thinking  of  dear  wife  and  little 
ones  left  at  home,  and  fondly  hoping  that  the  day  may 
soon  come  when  I  will  be  with  them.  It  may  never  come. 
My  fate  may  be  that  of  many  others.     Whatever  the 


64  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

future  may  have  in  store  for  me,  I  trust  that  I  am  pre- 
pared to  meet  it  with  becoming  resignation. 

And  now,  darling,  I  will  take  leave  of  you.    Think  of 
me  often,  and  believe  me,  with  much  love,  ever  yours. 


Bunker  Hill,  Va.f  October  5,  1862. 

The  army  was  never  so  quiet  as  now,  the  general  impres- 
sion prevailing  that  we  contemplate  no  advance  upon  the 
enemy  and  that  he  contemplates  none  upon  us.  We  are 
lying  quiet  to  gather  in  our  absentees  and  recover  from 
the  losses  which  we  have  sustained  in  the  active  work  of 
the  last  sixty  days.  When  this  is  accomplished  winter 
will  probably  have  set  in,  and  the  work  of  this  year  closed. 
I  fear  our  troops  are  to  suffer  much  from  want  of  cloth- 
ing, and  that  our  supplies  will  prove  greatly  inadequate 
for  our  wants. 

Whilst  the  army  has  been  apparently  idle,  I  have  been 
unusually  busy  during  the  last  week.  Everybody  seems 
to  be  making  application  for  something,  and  my  office  is 
crowded  with  business.  I  do  scarcely  any  writing,  leav- 
ing it  all  to  my  clerk,  Mr.  Figgat.  If  I  undertook  to  do 
the  writing,  my  eyes  would  not  last  long.  But  as  it  is,  I 
think  I  shall  be  able  to  do  my  work  without  injury.  My 
office  is  one  of  much  importance  and  responsibility,  and  I 
trust  I  may  be  able  to  fill  it  without  suffering  injury  to  my 
sight.  I  think,  Love,  if  this  war  lasts  much  longer,  you 
will  get  to  be  a  pretty  good  farmer.  It  really  seems  as  if 
it  would  last  forever.  Both  parties  seem  getting  used  to 
it,  and  the  signs  of  peace  and  quiet  are  less,  if  anything, 
now  than  this  time  last  year. 

I  heartily  wish  I  were  at  home  with  you  and  our  dear 
little  boys.  It  is  the  wish  of  many  thousands  of  my  com- 
rades who  have  left  loved  wives  and  children  at  home  to 
mourn  their  absence  and  grieve  over  the  danger  and  hard- 
ships to  which  they  are  exposed.  God  grant  that  we  may 
all  soon  be  gratified— that  the  fervent  prayer  for  our  re- 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  65 

turn  may  soon  be  answered.  When  we  do,  I  think  it  will 
be  with  a  more  grateful  appreciation  of  the  blessings 
which  we  were  accustomed  every  day  to  enjoy. 

Now,  darling,  I  will  bid  you  good-bye.  Think  of  me 
often  and  cherish  the  fond  love  which  has  marked  our  in- 
tercourse thus  far  through  life  as  our  greatest  source  of 
happiness. 

The  office  which  General  Paxton  held  at  this  time  was 
that  of  Acting  Assistant  Adjutant-General  on  Jackson's 
staff.  The  following  letter  from  General  Jackson  shows 
the  esteem  in  which  he  was  at  this  time  held  by  that  officer. 


Headquarters  V.  District 

September  23,  1862. 

General:  I  respectfully  recommend  that  Maj.  E.  F. 
Paxton  be  appointed  Brigadier-General  and  assigned  to 
the  command  of  the  brigade  lately  under  Brigadier-Gen- 
eral C.  L.  Winder.  Last  year  he  was  major  of  the  27th 
Regt.  of  the  brigade  and  ranked  all  the  officers  at  present 
in  the  brigade,  except  three.  Upon  the  reorganization  of 
the  Volunteer  Regiment,  Major  Paxton  was  not  retained. 
As  he  served  under  me  in  the  line,  and  at  various  times  I 
assigned  important  duties  to  him,  and  as  for  several 
months  he  has  been  my  A.  A.  A.  General,  my  opportuni- 
ties for  judging  of  his  qualifications  have  been  remark- 
ably good;  and  there  is  no  officer  under  the  grade  pro- 
posed whom  I  can  recommend  with  such  confidence  for 
promotion  to  a  Brigadier-Generalcy. 

I  am,  General,  your  obt.  servant, 
T.  J.  Jackson, 

Major-General. 

To  Genl.  S.  Cooper, 

Adjt.  &  Insp.-Gen'l  C.  S.  A. 


66  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

Bunker  Hill,  Va.}  October  12,  1862. 

It  has  not  been  three  months  since  I  left  home.  I  can 
hardly  realize  that  it  has  been  so  long,  the  time  has  passed 
so  rapidly.  During  this  period  I  have  had  the  pleasure 
of  participating  in  what  history  will  record  as  the  most 
astonishing  expeditions  of  the  war,  for  the  severity  of  the 
battles  fought  and  the  hardships  endured  by  our  soldiers. 
And  now  it  seems  like  settling  down  to  idleness.  The  last 
week  was  one  of  quiet  and  stagnation  like  the  week  before. 
I  have  not  been  in  a  saddle  now  for  two  weeks,  and  have 
not  been  half  a  mile  from  my  camp  since  we  came  to  our 
present  encampment.  Yet  I  have  been  kept  so  busy  that 
the  time  passed  fast  enough.  I  have  had  general  charge 
of  the  orders  and  correspondence,  which  has  given  me  full 
employment.  We  may  have  some  more  activity  this  fall, 
but  I  am  inclined  to  think  the  campaign  is  over.  It  is  too 
late  now  for  either  side  to  think  of  accomplishing  much 
before  winter  sets  in.  Our  army  is  in  splendid  condition. 
It  has  been  rapidly  increasing  during  the  last  three  weeks 
by  conscripts  and  convalescents  who  have  been  coming  in. 
If  the  enemy  cross  the  Potomac  to  begin  the  offensive,  we 
shall,  I  think,  have  another  great  battle  near  this  place, 
and  I  feel  sure  that  it  will  be  a  splendid  victory  for  us. 
Our  victories,  though,  seem  to  settle  nothing ;  to  bring  us 
no  nearer  the  end  of  the  war.  It  is  only  so  many  killed 
and  wounded,  leaving  the  work  of  blood  to  go  on  with  re- 
newed vigor.  Like  everything  else,  it  must  have  an  end 
sooner  or  later. 

And  now,  darling,  I  will  take  leave  of  you,  hoping  you 
may  have  a  good  time  getting  through  with  your  compli- 
cated troubles  on  the  farm.  No  doubt  you  think  I  devote 
little  of  my  time  to  thinking  about  them.  True,  because 
my  work  here  occupies  my  whole  time  except  Sunday, 
when,  by  Gen.  Lee's  order,  we  are  to  remain  idle  unless 
necessity  compels  the  work.  Kiss  our  dear  little  boys  for 
me,  and  remind  them  of  their  absent  papa.     How  I  wish  I 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  67 

could  see  you  all  for  a  little  while !    But  I  must  not  think 
of  it  until  Christmas. 


Martmsburg,  October  19,  1862. 

I  have  spent  a  busy  Sunday,  superintending  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  railroad  here,  and  will  spend  what  little  re- 
mains of  the  day  in  writing  you  a  short  note.  It  is  a  bad 
chance  for  a  letter,  as  I  write  on  my  pocket-book  resting 
on  my  knee.  I  received  your  letter  of  the  9th  ult.,  and  was 
glad  to  hear  from  you.  I  felt  to-day  as  though  I  were  at 
my  old  trade— destroying  the  railroad— which  I  was  at 
eighteen  months  ago.  Last  week  we  thought  there  was  a 
chance  for  another  battle,  as  it  was  reported  the  enemy 
was  advancing.  But  it  turned  out  to  be  only  a  scouting 
party.  With  that  exception,  we  have  had  a  very  quiet 
time. 

Camp  near  Charlestown,  October  25,  1862. 

This  is  a  dreary,  rainy  Sunday;  every  one  idle  and  at  a 
loss  for  employment.  We  came  down  on  yesterday  to 
tear  up  the  railroad;  the  job  is  about  finished,  I  think,  and 
we  would  leave  now  but  for  the  rain.  We  will  return  to 
Bunker  Hill,  I  suppose,  to-morrow.  It  really  seems  as  if 
the  winter  would  come  before  we  had  any  further  active 
work.  I  care  but  little  whether  we  have  any  or  not,  and 
feel  ready  for  it,  whatever  it  may  be.  Some  indulge  a 
hope  that  it  will  be  over  this  winter.  I  do  not  know.  Our 
duty  is  to  prepare  for  a  most  vigorous  prosecution  of  the 
war  next  spring,  and  be  prepared  for  the  worst  that  may 
come.  We  are  in  the  hands  of  a  just  God,  who  will  give 
us  peace  when  we  deserve  it.  I  heartily  wish,  Love,  that 
I  was  at  home  with  you.  No  honor  or  promotion  could 
tempt  me  to  stay  here  if  my  duty  and  my  self-respect  did 
not  make  it  imperative.  My  manhood  is  involved  in  a 
faithful  and  fearless  sticking  to  the  job  until  it  is  finished, 


68  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

or  it  finishes  me,  as  it  has  done  many  good  men.  With 
such  a  future  before  me,  dark  and  uncertain  enough,  I  am 
sure,  I  try  to  do  whatever  is  required  of  me  well  and 
cheerfully.  I  have  much  reason  to  be  gratified  at  the 
many  evidences  of  good  opinion  which  I  have  received 
from  Genl.  Jackson  and  all  under  whom  I  have  served. 
I  trust  I  may  be  able  to  get  a  short  furlough  to  visit  home 
this  winter,  and  I  look  forward  to  it  with  much  pleasure. 
The  first  freezing,  snowy  weather  we  have  to  stop  all  ac- 
tive work,  I  shall  make  an  effort  to  spend  a  few  weeks 
with  you. 


Berryville,  Clark  Co.,  November,  2, 1862. 

I  have  just  returned  from  a  ride  down  to  the  camp  of  my 
old  comrades,  with  whom  I  have  spent  a  very  pleasant 
day.  The  old  tent  in  which  I  quartered  last  spring  and 
winter  looked  very  natural,  but  the  appearance  of  the 
regiment  was  very  much  changed.  But  few  of  the  officers 
who  were  with  me  are  in  it  now.  In  my  old  company  I 
found  many  familiar  faces  in  those  who  went  with  me  to 
Harper's  Ferry  last  spring  a  year  ago.  We  then  hoped 
a  few  months  would  end  the  war  and  we  would  all  be  at 
home  again.  Sadly  we  were  disappointed.  Many  of  our 
comrades  have  gone  to  their  long  home,  and  many  more 
disabled  for  life.  And  now  when  we  look  to  the  future 
we  seem,  if  anything,  farther  from  the  end  of  our  troubles 
than  when  they  began.  Many  of  us  are  destined  yet  to 
share  the  fate  of  our  dead  and  wounded  comrades,  a  few 
perhaps  survive  the  war,  enjoy  its  glorious  fruits,  and 
spend  what  remains  of  life  with  those  we  love.  We  all 
hope  to  be  thus  blessed ;  but  for  my  part  I  feel  that  my 
place  must  be  filled  and  my  duty  done,  if  it  cost  me  my  life 
and  bring  sorrow  to  the  dear  wife  and  little  ones  who  now 
watch  my  path  with  so  much  anxiety  and  pray  so  fer- 
vently for  my  safe  deliverance.  The  sentiment  which  I 
try  to  hold  and  cherish  is  God's  will  and  my  duty  to  be 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  69 

done,  whatever  the  future  may  have  in  store  for  me.  I 
am  glad  to  feel,  darling,  that  although  I  have  been  writing 
to  you  for  nearly  eighteen  months,  and  this  has  been  the 
substitute  for  our  once  fond  intercourse,  I  feel  when  I 
write  now  that  I  miss  you  none  the  less  than  I  did  when 
this  cruel  war  first  placed  the  barrier  of  separation  be- 
tween us.  I  hope  as  fondly  as  ever  that  the  day  may  soon 
come  when  we  will  live  in  peace  and  quiet  together.  Eight 
years  ago  to-day,  Love,  we  began  our  married  life,  very 
happy  and  full  of  hope  for  the  future.  Thus  far  it  has 
been  made  of  sunshine  and  shadow,  joy  and  sorrow, 
strangely  intermingled.  The  darker  shade  of  life  has  for 
a  long  time  predominated ;  may  we  not  hope  for  a  change 
of  fortune  ere  long? 


Camp  near  Port  Royal,  November  9, 1862. 

The  day  before  yesterday  we  had  a  snow,  and  the  weather 
is  now  quite  cold.  Winter  seems  to  have  set  in,  and  it  finds 
us  sadly  prepared  for  it.  A  large  number  of  our  soldiers 
are  entirely  barefooted,  and  very  many  without  blankets. 
Living  in  the  open  air,  without  tents  and  with  a  very  small 
supply  of  axes  to  cut  wood  for  fires,  there  is  much  suffer- 
ing. Those  of  our  people  who  are  living  at  home  in  com- 
fort have  no  conception  of  the  hardships  which  our  sol- 
diers are  enduring.  And  I  think  they  manifest  very  little 
interest  in  it.  They  are  disposed  to  get  rich  from  the 
troubles  of  the  country,  and  exact  from  the  Government 
the  highest  prices  for  everything  needed  for  the  army. 
I  trust  the  Government  will  soon  take  the  matter  in  hand, 
fix  its  own  prices,  and  take  what  it  wants  for  the  army. 
Everything  here  indicates  that  we  move  to-morrow — 
where,  there  is  no  telling.  But  I  trust  we  may  soon  find 
ourselves  settled  for  the  winter.  If  active  operations 
were  suspended  for  the  winter,  our  men  could  soon  build 
huts  and  make  themselves  comfortable.    If,  however,  we 


70  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

have  active  operations,  the  sufferings  of  our  men  must  be 
intense. 

So  you  growl  about  Sunday  letters.  They  are  written 
on  that  day  because  all  work  in  the  army  is  suspended  on 
that  day  and  I  always  have  leisure  then.  They  are  not 
interesting,  you  say.  I  am  sorry  for  it.  It  is  because  I 
have  but  little  to  write  about  that  would  interest  you. 
They  always  tell  you  I  am  alive  and  doing  well.  Is  n't 
that  always  interesting  intelligence  f 

You  never  mentioned  in  your  letter  which  company 
White  Williamson  is  in.  Let  me  know  and  I  will  go  to  see 
him.  Give  my  love  to  Martha,  and  tell  her  I  say  she  has 
good  quarters  in  Lexington  and  she  had  better  stay  there. 
Our  army  is  a  moving  concern,  and  there  is  no  telling 
where  it  will  be  a  month  hence.  Possibly  we  may  be  here, 
quite  as  likely  at  Eichmond. 

You  speak  of  the  army  as  my  idol,  but  you  never  were 
more  mistaken.  I  had  a  good  deal  rather  live  in  a  house 
than  a  tent,  though  I  can  bear  the  change,  as  there  is  no 
helping  it.  I  had  a  good  deal  rather  be  with  you  and  the 
children  than  with  my  idol,  the  army,  your  opinion  to  the 
contrary  notwithstanding.    And  now,  Growler,  good-bye. 

P.  S.  Since  that  was  written,  I  have  received  an  order 
conferring  upon  me  the  title  of  Brigadier-General  and  as- 
signing me  to  the  command  of  Jackson's  old  brigade.  I 
made  no  application  for  it,  and  if  I  had  consulted  my  own 
inclination  should  have  been  disposed  to  remain  in  my 
present  position. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Winchester,  Va.,  November  15, 1862. 

I  left  Gen.  Jackson  on  yesterday  for  my  new  position 
with  much  reluctance.  I  had  with  him  a  very  pleasant 
situation,  with  work  enough  to  keep  me  employed,  and 
the  society  of  companions  I  liked.  I  go  where  there  is 
much  thankless  work  to  be  done  and  much  responsibility  to 
be  incurred.  I  am  free  to  admit  that  I  don't  like  the  change. 
Yet  there  is  no  help  for  it.  I  must  go,  although  I  have 
changed  quarters  before  in  a  happier  state  of  mind,  and 
with  a  more  cheerful  and  refreshing  prospect  before  me. 
Thirty-five  hundred  of  my  countrymen  are  placed  under 
my  command.  If  my  duty  be  done  to  the  best  of  my  abil- 
ity, it  will  not,  I  fear,  be  with  such  result  as  to  give  entire 
satisfaction.  Yet  if  suffering  or  disaster  spring  from 
any  act  of  mine,  loud  and  deep  will  be  the  curses  heaped 
upon  my  name. 

How  I  wish  that  I  was  at  home  again  with  those  who 
love  me!  It  is  the  wish  of  many  thousands  around  me 
who  have  left  homes  loved  as  well  as  mine.  Grod  grant  it 
may  soon  be  realized !  But  we  must  stay  just  where  we 
are  and  do  just  what  we  are  ordered  to  do.  There  is  no 
use  in  having  will  or  wish  in  the  matter,  for  there  is 
nothing  we  can  do  to  accomplish  it.  We  must  wait  in 
patience  for  the  event  when  the  war  shall  end,  and  those 
of  us  who  survive  will  be  at  liberty  to  return  again  to  our 
old  associations  and  pursuits.  Soon  we  shall  have  win- 
ter, and  it  will  bring  with  it,  I  fear,  much  suffering  to  our 
troops,  and  to  many,  I  fear,  a  still  keener  pang  in  the 
letter  from  home  telling  that  wife  and  child  that  never 
knew  want  before  are  suffering  from  hunger  and  cold. 

71 


72  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

If  ever  a  people  on  earth  had  cause  upon  bended  knees  to 
pray  God  to  spare  a  further  infliction  of  this  terrible  curse, 
it  is  ours.  We  have  suffered  much,  yet  the  future  seems 
to  hold  for  us  an  inexhaustible  store  of  suffering— the 
bloodshed  of  the  battle,  the  diseases  which  the  camp  and 
exposure  engender,  and  the  want  of  food  and  clothing 
produced  by  laying  waste  the  country.  It  seems  dark 
enough. 

General  Order  No.  58. 

Head  Qrs.  Paxton's  Brigade,  Jackson  's  Division, 
2nd  Corps, 

Camp  Baylor,  Va.,  November  18,  1862. 

The  Brigadier  commanding,  assuming  the  position,  em- 
braces the  opportunity  to  express  his  appreciation  of  the 
honor  received  in  being  assigned  to  a  brigade  which,  by 
its  valor,  in  the  first  conflict  with  the  enemy  won  for  its 
General  a  name  which  his  virtues  and  the  achievements  of 
his  troops  have  made  immortal.  Under  the  lead  of  Jack- 
son, Garnet  and  Grigsby,  who  with  you  had  shared  and 
survived  the  perils  of  battle,  under  Winder  and  Baylor, 
who  have  fallen  in  front  of  your  lines  and  are  now 
mourned  among  your  gallant  dead,  you  have  gathered 
laurels  which  he  trusts  may  not  hereafter  be  suffered  to 
wither  upon  your  standards. 

He  hopes  to  merit  your  good  opinion  by  his  efforts  to 
provide  for  your  comforts  and  promote  your  efficiency, 
and  by  his  participation  with  you  in  all  the  dangers  and 
all  the  hardships  of  the  service. 

He  expects  that  such  example  as  he  may  set,  of  atten- 
tion to  duty  and  obedience  to  orders,  will  be  followed  by 
the  officers  and  men  of  his  command. 

(Signed)         E.  F.  Paxton, 

Brig.-Genl. 

(Signed)         E.  Willis, 

Capt.  &  A.  A.  A.  Genl. 


MEMOIE  AND  MEMORIALS  73 

Spottsylvania  C.  H.,  December  4,  1862. 

We  have  reached  what  I  suppose  to  be  our  destination 
after  eleven  days '  march,  stopping  but  once  on  the  route. 
The  roads  were  good ;  the  troops  were  in  good  spirits,  and 
with  moderate  marching  reached  here  but  little  exhausted. 
I  really  don't  know  what  we  came  for,  as  everything  here 
is  in  a  most  profound  state  of  quiet.  The  enemy  are  on 
the  other  side  of  the  Rappahannock,  showing  but  little,  if 
any,  signs  of  an  intention  to  cross. 

I  am  getting  used  to  my  new  position,  and,  whilst  I  pre- 
fer that  which  I  left,  I  can  be  contented  here.  I  have  no 
reason  now  to  complain  of  a  want  of  employment,  but  feel 
that  I  have  more  than  I  can  do.  I  have  found  much  that 
I  would  like  to  remedy,  but  have  not  the  means  to  do  it. 
Our  soldiers  are  not  clothed  or  fed  now  as  they  used  to  be. 
We  are  short  of  everything.  I  hope  this  winter  that  much 
may  be  supplied,  and  next  spring  we  may  be  able  to  begin 
the  campaign  in  fine  condition. 

We  have  bright,  clear  weather  now,  but  it  is  the  season 
when  we  may  expect  it  not  to  last.  Soon  we  shall  have 
snow,  bad  roads,  cold  weather  and  the  usual  attendants 
of  the  season.  I  wish  now  we  had  the  order  to  prepare 
for  it  and  build  such  cheap  huts  as  would  shelter.  Now 
very  few  of  them  have  tents  and  many  are  thinly  clad; 
some  are  barefooted  and  a  few  without  blankets.  I  wish 
that  I  had  the  power  to  supply  their  wants,  but  I  can  do 
but  little.  Have  you  made  up  your  mind,  Love,  when  the 
war  will  be  over?  I  am  heartily  sick  and  tired  of  it.  If 
any  one  had  told  me,  when  it  began,  that  I  should  pass 
through  two  years  of  it  and  reach  the  rank  of  Brigadier, 
with  pay  of  $300  per  month,  it  would  have  been  a  flatter- 
ing prospect;  but  I  feel  now  as  if  no  rank  or  pay  could 
induce  me  to  be  a  soldier— nothing  but  necessity  and  a 
feeling  that  I  am  not  a  true  man  if  I  leave  our  cause  for 
the  comforts  of  home?  I  sometimes  have  been  severely 
tempted  to   follow  the   example   which  many  whom  I 


74  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

thought  good  men  have  set  in  staying  at  home.  But  other 
and  better  impulses  have  controlled  my  conduct.  When 
we  were  separated  in  times  past,  I  could  feel  with  some 
certainty  that  we  should  soon  be  together  again.  Not  so 
now.  When  will  it  be,  if  ever?  This  is  the  question 
shrouded  in  impenetrable  gloom.  I  would  like  to  see 
through  it.  I  would  like  to  know  when  I  should  be  at 
home  again  to  spend  my  life  with  loved  wife  and  children. 
God  in  his  mercy  grant  that  hope  so  fondly  cherished  may 
some  day  be  realized !  It  may  never  be.  Yet  it  is  a  fond 
hope  which  I  cherish  while  life  lasts. 


Camp  near  Guinea's  Depot,  December  7 ,  1862. 

We  have  a  quiet  Sunday  to-day.  Everything  in  camp 
stopped  except  the  axes,  which  run  all  night  and  all  day, 
Sunday  included.  With  the  soldiers  it  is, l  i  Keep  the  axes 
going  or  freeze."  They  are  the  substitutes  for  tents, 
blankets,  shoes,  and  everything  once  regarded  as  neces- 
sary for  comfort.  The  misfortune  is  that  even  axes  are 
scarce ;  the  army  is  short  of  everything,  and  I  fear  soon 
to  be  destitute  of  everything.  Yet  the  men  are  cheerful 
and  seem  to  be  contented.  It  seems  strange,  but,  thanks 
to  God  for  changing  their  natures,  they  bear  in  patience 
now  what  they  once  would  have  regarded  as  beyond  hu- 
man endurance.  Whilst  I  write,  I  expect  you  are  sitting 
in  our  pew  at  church,  my  place  by  your  side  filled  by  little 
Matthew,— bless  the  dear  boy!— listening  to  a  sermon 
from  Parson  White  on  covetousness,  avarice  and  such 
kindred  inventions  of  Satan.    I  wish  him  success,  but  I 

fear  he  will  hardly  be  able  to  convince  that  leather 

can  be  too  high,  or  that  it  is  not  the  will  of  God  for  poor 
soldiers  to  go  barefooted.  God  seems  to  have  consigned 
one-half  of  our  people  to  death  at  the  hands  of  the  enemy, 
and  the  other  half  to  affluence  and  wealth  realized  by 
preying  upon  the  necessities  of  those  who  are  thus  sacri- 
ficed.    The  extortioners  at  home  are  our  worst  enemies. 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  75 

If  our  soldiers  had  their  sympathies,  their  assistance  in 
providing  the  necessary  means  of  sustaining  the  army, 
they  might  bear  the  hardships  and  do  the  work  before 
them,  feeling  that  it  was  a  common  undertaking  for  the 
benefit  of  us  all  and  sustained  by  us,  all.  But  it  seems 
like  a  revolution  to  make  those  rich  who  stay  at  home,  and 
those  poor  who  do  their  duty  in  the  army. 

I  begin  to  like  my  new  position.  It  occupies  my  whole 
mind  and  time.  I  begin  to  feel  that  my  highest  ambition 
is  to  make  my  brigade  the  best  in  the  army,  to  merit  and 
enjoy  the  affection  of  my  men.  I  trust  that  both  may  be 
realized.  When  I  came  to  it  I  knew  that  my  appointment 
was  unwelcome  to  some  of  the  officers,  but  I  have  received 
nothing  but  kindness  and  respect  from  all.  They  all 
knew  me,  and  knew  that  what  I  said  would  have  to  be 
done.  I  have  had  much  better  success  thus  far  than  I 
anticipated.  We  made  a  long  march  from  Winchester— 
the  longest  the  brigade  has  ever  made  without  stopping. 
Usually  on  such  marches  the  men  fall  behind,  leave  the 
road  to  get  provisions  at  the  farm-houses,  etc.  But  on 
this  march  I  came  very  near  stopping  such  practices. 
Out  of  the  five  last  days  of  the  march,  on  three  of  them 
every  man  was  present  when  we  reached  the  camp  in  the 
evening;  on  the  other  two  days  but  one  was  missing  each 
day.  I  am  sure  that  no  other  brigade  in  the  army  can 
show  any  such  record.  During  this  winter  I  shall  spend 
my  time  in  trying  to  make  them  comfortable  and  happy, 
in  teaching  them  all  the  duties  of  soldiers,  and  in  instill- 
ing into  them  the  habit  of  obeying  orders.  I  hope  to 
gather  in  all  absentees,  and  when  the  winter  is  over  to 
turn  out  at  least  2500  men  for  duty.  So,  you  see,  Love,  I 
have  laid  out  my  work  for  the  winter ;  and  you,  so  far,  as 
I  have  said,  are  to  take  no  part  of  my  care.  I  think  I 
shall  be  able  to  devote  a  week  to  you  at  home.  I  wish  that 
week  were  here  now,  but  I  can't  ask  for  it  now.  I  must 
wait  till  the  snow  is  deeper,  the  air  colder.  Then,  I  think, 
I  will  be  allowed  a  short  absence. 


76  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

Camp  near  Port  Royal,  December  21, 1862. 

I  wrote  to  you  some  days  since,  informing  you  that  I  had 
passed  through  the  battle  at  Fredericksburg  without  dam- 
age. The  loss  in  my  brigade  was  seventy-six.  We 
reached  the  battle-ground  on  Friday  morning,  the  12th 
inst.,  when  everything  indicated  that  we  should  have  a 
battle  that  day.  We  took  first  one  position  and  then  an- 
other, all  the  while  expecting  the  fight  to  open;  but  the 
day  passed  off  quietly,  excepting  some  artillery  firing  and 
some  skirmishing.  That  night  we  slept  in  our  places. 
The  next  morning  all  was  quiet  as  on  the  day  before  for  a 
while,  but  then  the  artillery  and  musketry  became  more 
rapid  in  firing,  and  continued  to  increase  until  for  more 
than  a  mile  along  the  line  there  seemed  a  continuous  roar 
of  musketry.  We  were  soon  ordered  forward,  and  then 
I  made  sure  we  should  be  in  the  battle;  but  when  we 
reached  the  position  occupied  by  our  second  line,  we  were 
halted,  and  there  one  of  my  regiments  became  engaged 
with  a  body  of  the  enemy  which  had  advanced  within  our 
lines.  It  lasted  a  very  little  while,  however.  The  enemy 
were  driven  back  along  our  whole  line,  and  not  renewing 
it,  the  battle  closed.  That  night  we  slept  on  the  field, 
among  the  dead  and  wounded.  The  next  morning  we  oc- 
cupied our  first  line.  We  supposed,  of  course,  that  the 
battle  would  be  renewed,  but  the  day  passed  off  quietly; 
the  next  day  it  was  the  same  case,  and  the  next  morning  it 
was  found  that  the  enemy  had  left  the  field  and  crossed 
over  the  river.  We  then  moved  down  to  our  present 
camp  some  fifteen  miles  below  Fredericksburg.  I  hear 
nothing  from  the  enemy.  Their  pickets  are  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river,  and  ours  are  on  this.  When  do  you 
think  we  will  have  another  battle  1  Where  will  it  be 1  Such 
questions  puzzle  the  minds  of  a  great  many  people,  and 
yours  too,  I  doubt  not.  It  may  be  to-morrow ;  it  may  not  be 
for  months.  I  hope  the  Yankees,  having  practice  enough 
for  the  year,  will  conclude  to  go  into  winter  quarters  and 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  77 

let  us  do  the  same.  Next  week  will  be  Christmas,  and  I 
hope  a  happy  one  to  the  loved  wife  and  children  of  my 
own  home.  To  many,  in  summing  up  and  looking  over 
their  bereavements  for  the  year,  it  will  be  sad  enough. 
We  have  been  more  blessed,  and  should  feel  grateful  for 
it.  To  the  future  I  look,  not  in  gloom  and  despondency, 
but  with  the  calmness  and  composure  of  one  who  feels  that 
his  own  destiny  in  a  sea  of  troubles  like  this  is  not  in  any 
way  under  his  control.  The  cloud  will  pass  away  when 
God  in  his  righteous  judgment  wills  it,  and  it  becomes  us 
all  to  bear  it  in  patience.  May  the  prayers  which  ascend 
to  heaven  from  so  many  supplicants,  with  such  earnest- 
ness and  fervor  as  they  never  knew  before,  soon  be  an- 
swered.    They  will  be  when  we  deserve  it. 


General  Oedee.    General  Oedees  No.  65 
Head  Qes.  Paxton's  Beigade, 

December  18,  1862. 

Regimental  commanders  will  institute  a  close  examination 
of  the  conduct  of  officers  and  men  in  the  late  battle.  They 
will  see  that  merited  censure  and  punishment  falls  upon 
delinquencies;  that  fidelity  and  gallantry  are  rewarded 
with  praise  and  promotion.  If  any  remained  behind  in 
camp  or  fell  to  the  rear  without  proper  leave  upon  the 
march,  which  seemed  to  all  to  lead  to  the  field  of  battle,  or 
when  brought  to  the  enemy  sought  safety  in  flight,  their 
officers  will  see  that  they  are  arrested  and  the  proper 
steps  taken  for  their  punishment. 

Your  line,  as  it  moved  after  long  hours  of  weary  sus- 
pense to  the  support  of  your  comrades  in  front,  exhibiting 
the  spirit  and  determination  of  soldiers  resolved  to  con- 
quer or  die,  was  witnessed  by  your  brigade  commander 
with  a  feeling  of  pride  and  gratification  such  as  he  had 
never  known  before.     Such  a  result  can  never  be  achieved 


78  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

by  men  who  harass  themselves  with  alternating  hope  of 
safety  and  fear  of  danger ;  it  is  the  work  only  of  the  sol- 
dier who  habituates  himself  to  the  idea  that  he  must  stand 
to  his  colors  so  long  as  he  has  a  cartridge  or  a  bayonet  to 
defend  him;  and  if  he  fails  in  this  he  deserves  to  be 
despised  and  cast  off  even  by  the  women  and  children  of 
his  own  home.  He  who  moves  under  such  a  resolution 
must  of  necessity  do  his  duty,  win  the  applause,  and  a  still 
nobler  reward  in  the  conviction  which  it  causes  to  his  own 
heart  that  he  is  what  the  meanest  feels  he  would  like  to  be 
—a  true  man  and  a  true  soldier. 

He  who  proves  recreant  to  his  country  and  his  cause  at 
such  a  time  merits  the  just  sentence  of  military  law— to 
die  under  the  colors  he  disgraced  and  by  the  muskets  of 
the  gallant  comrades  he  deserted. 

(Signed)        E.  F.  Paxton, 

Brig.-Genl. 

Official. 

Friend  C.  Cox,  A.  D.  C. 

The  following  extracts  were  taken  from  the  official 
records  of  the  Union  and  Confederate  Armies,  Series  I, 
Vol.  XXI,— Fredericksburg: 


Report  of  Brig.-Gen.  E.  F.  Paxton,  C.  S.  Army, 
Commanding  First  Brigade 

Hdqrs.  Paxton 's  Brigade,  Jackson  's  Division, 
Camp  near  Corbin's  Farm,  December  24, 1862. 

Captain:  In  pursuance  of  the  order  from  division  com- 
mander to  report  the  participation  of  my  brigade  in  the 
battle  near  Fredericksburg,  I  have  the  honor  to  state  that 
my  brigade,  consisting  of  Second,  Fourth,  Fifth,  Twenty- 
seventh,  and  Thirty-third  Virginia  Regiments  and  Joseph 
Carpenter's  battery,  numbering  in  all  about  123  officers 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  79 

and  1100  men,  marched  from  its  encampment,  near 
Guiney's  Depot,  on  Friday  morning,  the  12th  inst.,  at  day- 
break. After  reaching  the  battle-field  and  making  fre- 
quent changes  of  position,  when  the  engagement  com- 
menced my  brigade  occupied  a  position  near  the  crest  of 
the  hill  some  four  hundred  yards  in  the  rear  of  General 
Gregg's  brigade  of  A.  P.  Hill's  division,  my  right  rest- 
ing on  the  left  of  Ewell's  division.  My  orders  were  to 
support  General  Gregg,  and  be  governed  in  my  actions 
by  his  movements.  Upon  a  report  from  my  orderly,  Mr. 
F.  C.  Cox,  whom  I  had  sent  forward  to  obtain  informa- 
tion, that  Gregg's  battery  was  moving,  I  ordered  my  bri- 
gade to  the  front  in  line  of  battle.  About  the  time  of 
reaching  General  Gregg's  position,  the  Second  Virginia 
Regiment,  occupying  the  right  of  my  line,  came  in  view  of 
the  enemy,  and  under  the  order  of  Capt.  J.  Q.  A.  Naden- 
busch,  commanding  the  regiment,  filed  obliquely  to  the 
right  and  rear,  but  scarcely  effected  its  change  of  position 
when  it  was  fired  upon  by  the  enemy.  Expecting,  from 
the  indications,  that  my  troops  would  be  engaged  in  this 
position,  I  proceeded  to  bring  forward  the  Fifth  and 
Fourth  Regiments  at  double-quick  and  post  them  upon  the 
right  of  the  Second,  and  to  put  the  Twenty-seventh  and 
the  Thirty-third  Regiments  in  position  upon  its  left. 
These  dispositions,  however,  were  not  accomplished  until 
the  firing  ceased,  the  enemy  having  been  gallantly  re- 
pulsed by  the  Second  Regiment.  Soon  after  I  changed 
my  position  and  occupied  the  military  road.  While  there 
I  found  that  troops  were  falling  back  in  disorder  past  the 
right  of  my  line,  when  I  deemed  it  prudent  to  move  some 
three  hundred  yards  to  the  right  upon  the  road,  to  guard 
against  an  advance  of  the  enemy  in  that  direction. 
Again  I  changed  position  and  occupied  the  line  of  the 
fence  in  front. 

That  night  my  brigade  slept  on  their  arms  on  the  mili- 
tary road,  and  the  next  morning,  before  daylight,  in  pur- 
suance of  an  order  from  the  division  commander,  took 


80  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

position  on  the  railroad,  my  right  resting  opposite  the 
position  which  my  left  had  occupied  on  the  military  road. 
Here  the  day  passed  off  quietly,  with  the  exception  of  oc- 
casional firing  between  the  pickets. 

Carpenter's  battery  was  detached  from  my  brigade  on 
the  12th  inst.  and  was  not  under  my  orders  during  the  en- 
gagement. A  report  of  its  participation  in  the  engage- 
ment, by  Lieutenant  (George)  McKendree,  commanding, 
is  transmitted  herewith. 

I  am  much  indebted  to  my  regimental  officers — Captain 
Nadenbusch  and  (R.  T.)  Colston,  acting  field  officers  of 
the  Second  Virginia  Regiment;  Lieutenant- Colonel  (R. 
D.)  Gardner,  and  Major  (William)  Terry,  Fourth  Vir- 
ginia Regiment;  Lieutenant-Colonel  (H.  J.)  Williams  and 
Captain  J.  W.  Newton,  Fifth  Virginia  Regiment;  Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel (James  K.)  Edmondson  and  Major  (D. 
M.)  Shriver,  Twenty-seventh  Virginia  Regiment;  and 
Colonel  (Edwin  G.)  Lee,  Thirty-third  Virginia  Regiment 
—for  the  exhibition  of  great  gallantry,  skill  and  coolness 
in  the  discharge  of  their  duties. 

Lieutenant- Colonel  Gardner,  after  having  passed  un- 
hurt and  distinguished  for  his  gallantry  through  all  the 
battles  of  the  campaign,— Port  Republic,  Richmond, 
Cedar  Mountain,  Manassas,  and  Sharpsburg,— fell,  at  the 
head  of  his  regiment,  severely,  if  not  fatally,  wounded. 

To  Adjt.  C.  S.  Arnall,  Fifth  Virginia  Regiment,  acting 
as  my  assistant  adjutant-general,  the  highest  praise  is 
due  for  his  gallant  and  energetic  discharge  of  the  duties 
incident  to  the  position. 

To  the  rank  and  file  of  my  command  I  am  especially 
grateful  for  the  courage,  fidelity  and  promptness  exhib- 
ited in  obeying  my  orders.  My  brigade  sustained  a  loss" 
of  killed,  4 ;  wounded,  69 ;  missing,  1.     Total,  74. 

The  reports  of  regimental  and  battery  commanders, 
with  list  of  casualties,  are  transmitted  herewith. 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  81 

No.  327,  P.  675.     Report  op  Brig.-Gen.  Wm.  B.  Talia- 
ferro, C.  S.  Army,  Commanding  Jackson's  Division 

Headquarters  Jackson's  Division, 
Camp  near  Moss  Neck,  Va.,  December  24, 1862 

Captain:  In  conformity  with  the  order  of  Lieutenant- 
General  commanding,  I  have  the  honor  to  report  the  oper- 
ations of  this  division  on  the  13th  and  14th  instant,  before 
Fredericksburg.  On  the  morning  of  the  12th  ...  I 
posted  Paxton's  and  Starke's  (Pendleton's)  brigades  in 
rear  of  Gregg 's  and  Thomas '  of  Hill 's  division,  and  held 
Taliaferro's  and  Jones'  brigades  in  reserve.  .  .  .  Early 
on  the  morning  of  the  13th  .  .  .  General  Paxton,  finding 
that  our  troops  were  giving  back  to  the  right  of  Gregg's 
brigade,  and  the  enemy  advancing  beyond  the  front  line 
through  a  gap  which  fronted  a  boggy  wood  supposed  to 
be  inaccessible  to  the  enemy,  moved  his  brigade  to  the 
right  and  engaged  with  two  of  his  regiments  the  enemy, 
who  had  penetrated  to  the  military  road,  but  who  were  re- 
tiring by  the  time  he  reached  that  point.  He  then  pushed 
forward  to  the  front,  and  occupied  for  the  rest  of  the  day 
the  front  line  at  that  place.  ...  I  take  pleasure  in  stat- 
ing that  officers  and  men  behaved  admirably,  displaying 
coolness  and  courage  under  fire,  and  changing  positions 
without  any  disorder  or  confusion.  I  would  particularly 
mention  Brigadier-Generals  Jones  and  Paxton.  ...  I 
enclose  a  list  of  killed  and  wounded,  amounting  to  190. 

No.  321,  P.  663.    Report  of  Brig.-Gen.  Jubal  A.  Early, 
Commanding  E well's  Dtvesion 

Headquarters  E well's  Division, 

December  27,  1862. 

Captain:  I  have  the  honor  to  submit  the  following  report 
of  the  operations  of  this  division  in  the  action  of  the  13th 
instant,  near  Fredericksburg.  .  .  . 


82  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

Seeing  this  brigade  falling  back,  I  halted  it  on  the  hill 
in  the  woods  immediately  in  the  rear  of  the  place  at  which 
it  had  first  met  the  enemy,  and  caused  it  to  be  reformed 
under  the  command  of  Col.  C.  A.  Evans  of  the  Thirty- 
first  Georgia  Regiment ;  and  fearing  that  the  enemy  might 
follow  through  the  same  interval  with  a  fresh  column,  I 
sent  to  General  D.  H.  Hill  for  reinforcements,  and  he  sent 
two  brigades  forward.  Before,  however,  they  arrived, 
Brigadier-General  (E.  F.)  Paxton  of  General  (W.  B.) 
Taliaferro's  division  had  filled  the  interval  left  open  by 
the  falling  back  of  this  brigade  by  promptly  moving  his 
own  brigade  into  it. 


Camp  Winder,  Caroline  Co.,  Va.,  January  1,  1863. 

I  have  not  heard  from  you  since  the  battle.  Since  then 
we  have  had  a  quiet  time  and  everything  looks  like  rest 
for  some  time  to  come.  The  men  are  fixing  up  their 
shanties  for  the  winter.  They  seem  happy  and  contented. 
It  is  sad  to  look  back  on  the  year  just  closed.  We  have 
suffered  much;  many  good  men  have  gone  to  their  long 
home.  Our  loss  has  been  1220  in  killed  and  wounded— 
more  men  than  we  could  turn  out  for  a  fight  to-day.  Out 
of  the  fifteen  field  officers  elected  last  spring,  five  have 
been  killed  and  six  others  wounded,  leaving  only  four 
that  have  escaped  unhurt.  In  these  losses  are  many 
whom  we  were  always  accustomed  to  regard  as  our  best 
men.  I  published  to-day  an  order  naming  our  camp, 
which  gives  some  facts  of  our  history,  and  I  send  you  a 
copy  of  it. 

How  are  the  matters  at  home?  In  the  excitement  of 
active  work,  I  have  too  much  to  do  to  harass  myself  with 
idle  dreams  of  home ;  but  now  since  we  are  at  rest  I  can- 
not keep  my  mind  from  it.  I  feel  there  is  nothing  which 
I  would  not  give  to  be  with  you  for  an  hour  or  a  day.  I 
could  have  gone  home  and  have  spent  a  couple  of  weeks 
when  I  received  my  appointment,  before  taking  command ; 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  83 

but  I  really  thought  the  brigade  was  sadly  in  need  of  a 
commander,  and  that  it  was  my  duty  to  stay.  Now  I  am 
fixed  and  must  apply  for  leave  just  as  any  private  in  the 
ranks.  I  know  it  would  not  improve  my  standing  with 
my  superior  officers  to  ask  for  a  leave,  but  still  I  feel  very 
much  tempted  to  do  it.  If  the  snow  falls  deep,  and  we 
have  such  severe  weather  as  to  preclude  the  possibility  of 
active  work,  my  homesick  malady  may  get  the  better 
of  me.  I  would  like  to  see  you,  Matthew,  Galla  and  the 
baby.  Have  the  children  forgotten  me  1  It  seems  so  long 
since  I  saw  them. 

Just  here  an  officer  calls  who  says  he  comes  upon  the 
disagreeable  duty  of  placing  me  in  arrest  by  order  of 
Gen.  Taliaferro,  who  regards  a  communication  which  I 
sent  him  to-day  as  very  disrespectful.  Very  good ;  there 
is  a  small  chunk  of  a  row  to  be  settled,  which  I  shall  do  in 
that  calm  spirit  which  becomes  the  man  who  means  to 
vindicate  himself  and  his  conduct.  He  says  my  com- 
munication was  disrespectful.  I  say  it  was  not,  and  can- 
not possibly  be  so  construed  by  any  intelligent  and  disin- 
terested officer.  I  feel  sure  that  I  have  done  nothing  at 
which  my  worst  enemy  could  find  cause  for  complaint. 
An  arrest  for  some  causes  would  be  a  serious  affair,  but 
in  a  matter  such  as  this  it  is  trifling  to  me.  The  offence 
of  Genl.  Taliaferro,  in  abusing  his  power  as  my  superior 
officer,  I  think  he  will  find,  in  the  opinion  of  all  disinter- 
ested gentlemen,  is  a  much  graver  offence  than  any  I  have 
committed.  I  wish  him  no  harm,  however ;  and  I  shall  do 
nothing  more  in  the  matter  than  what  I  may  think,  after 
calm  and  mature  reflection,  ought  to  be  done.  Do  not  give 
yourself  any  anxiety  about  it,  as  there  is  nothing  in  it  to 
involve  either  my  character  as  an  officer  or  a  gentleman. 
The  difficulty  arose  about  a  sealed  communication  from 
St.  Pritchard,  Judge-Advocate  of  the  court  martial  in  ses- 
sion in  my  brigade,  which  was  addressed  to  Gen. Chilton, 
Adjutant  to  Genl.  Lee,  and  sent  by  me  to  Genl.  Taliaferro 
to  be  forwarded  to  its  destination.    It  was  returned  to  me, 


84  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

opened,  with  an  endorsement  that  it  did  not  comply  with 
the  army  regulations  as  to  endorsing  and  forwarding  it. 
I  replied  that  as  St.  Pritchard  was  on  detached  service,  I 
did  not  think  his  communication  to  Genl.  Lee  was  in  any 
way  under  my  control  or  that  of  Genl.  Taliaferro,  and  that 
as  he  had  taken  the  liberty  of  breaking  the  seal  and  re- 
turning the  paper,  it  would  be  sent  to  its  destination 
through  some  other  channel.  Perhaps  he  differs  with  me 
upon  the  point,  and  thinks  I  meant  to  be  offensive.  So 
much  for  this  piece  of  news.  Now,  darling,  I  will  bid  you 
good-night. 

General  Orders  No.  1 

Headquarters  Paxton's  Brigade, 

Camp  Winder,  January  1, 1863. 

In  memory  of  the  gallant  officer  who  led  the  brigade  at  the 
battles  of  Winchester,  Port  Republic  and  Richmond,  and 
whose  valuable  life  was  lost  at  Cedar  Mountain,  the  pres- 
ent encampment  is  called  Camp  Winder.  In  the  losses  of 
the  year  just  closed,  twelve  hundred  and  twenty  killed  and 
wounded,  you  have  much  to  mourn.  The  eye  moistens 
with  an  unbidden  tear  to  find  that  many  of  the  officers 
whom  your  free  choice  had  appointed  to  lead  you,  of  the 
messmates  and  comrades  you  loved,  are  missing  now. 
On  Richmond,  Manassas,  or  on  some  other  field  of  car- 
nage, they  have  met  a  soldier's  fate  and  found  a  soldier's 
grave.  In  its  achievements  you  have  much  cause  for 
pride.  You  have  marched  fifteen  hundred  miles,  encoun- 
tering the  snows  and  ice  of  winter  in  the  mountains  of 
Morgan  and  Hampshire ;  the  heat  and  miasma  of  summer 
in  the  swamps  of  Henrico  and  Hanover.  You  have  met 
the  enemy  in  nine  severe  battles,  and  in  all,  save  one,  God 
has  blessed  your  arms  with  victory.  You  have  the  proud 
satisfaction  of  knowing  that  you  have  participated  in  the 
campaign  which  has  given  your  country  a  brilliant  name 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  85 

in  history,  and  that  you  have  contributed  with  your  blood 
to  its  success.  To-day  you  begin  another  year  in  the 
service  of  your  country,  and  in  the  achievement  of  its  in- 
dependence. God  speed  you  in  your  glorious  work! 
You  begin  the  campaign  with  but  twelve  hundred  muskets 
—a  small  number,  it  is  true,  but  borne  by  men  inured 
alike  to  the  dangers  and  the  hardships  of  the  service,  who 
will  make  up  in  hardy  courage  what  they  lack  in  numbers. 
Imitate  the  valor  of  Winder,  Allen,  Baylor  and  Neff,  and 
you  have  a  brilliant  future  before  you. 

(Signed)  E.  F.  Paxton, 

Brig.-Genl. 

Official.    Friend  C.  Cox,  A.  D.  C. 


Gamp  Winder,  January  17,  1863. 

We  returned  yesterday  from  a  week's  tour  of  duty  on 
picket,  and  the  men  are  now  camping  in  their  old  camp. 
We  had  very  good  weather,  with  the  exception  of  one 
day's  rain;  and  it  was  cloudy  and  seemed  every  day  as 
if  bad  weather  was  coming  upon  us.  Whilst  there  I  got 
an  order  to  cook  one  day's  rations  and  be  prepared  to 
move  at  any  time.  But  several  days  have  elapsed  and 
no  order  yet  to  move.  I  think  it  is  very  improbable  that 
such  an  order  will  come  before  spring.  The  Yankees,  I 
doubt  not,  are  having  a  quiet  time  in  winter  quarters, 
and,  I  think,  have  seen  enough  of  us  to  last  them  until 
spring.  Appearances  indicate  an  engagement  in  North 
Carolina.  It  is  probable  they  will  make  an  effort  to  take 
possession  of  the  railroad  and  of  Wilmington.  If  so,  we 
will  have,  I  doubt  not,  a  severe  battle  there.  I  expect, 
too,  we  shall  hear  of  another  attack  on  Vicksburg  before 
long.  So  far  as  we  are  concerned  here,  I  feel,  perhaps, 
too  confident.  We  have  whipped  the  army  in  front  of  us 
very  often,  and  I  feel  sure  that  we  can  do  it  any  time. 
We  repulsed  their  attack  at  Sharpsburg,  where,  I  am 
sure,  we  did  not  have  more  than  half  of  our  present 


86  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

strength.  I  do  not  think  their  army  can  ever  be  increased, 
but  the  symptoms  of  dissatisfaction  at  the  North  must 
tend  largely  to  diminish  it.  Our  independence  was  se- 
cured in  the  last  campaign  when  we  proved  our  capacity 
to  beat  the  finest  army  they  could  bring  in  the  field.  The 
war  may  be  protracted,  there  is  no  telling  how  long ;  but 
we  have  shown  our  capacity  to  beat  them,  and  we  are 
better  able  to  do  it  now  than  ever  before.  But  many  of 
us  may  never  live  to  see  the  end ;  it  may  last  long  enough 
to  see  the  end  of  more  of  us  than  will  be  blessed  in  living 
to  see  the  end  of  it.  If  it  be  God's  will  that  my  life  shall 
be  lost  in  it,  I  feel  that  I  should  await  my  fate  contented, 
if  not  with  cheerful  satisfaction.  The  next  world  we  must 
all  see  sooner  or  later,  and  in  this  business  one  must  make 
up  his  mind  to  look  upon  the  change  with  composure. 
Every  sense  of  fear  and  alarm  must  be  controlled  in  such 
a  way  that  he  may  act  free  from  the  influence  in  the 
midst  of  dangers  which  at  other  times  would  have  made 
him  shudder.  It  is  well  that  we  cannot  know  to-day  the 
events  of  to-morrow;  that  upon  the  eve  of  our  pain  and 
death  we  may  be  made  happy  by  the  anticipation  of 
pleasure  which  we  are  destined  never  to  enjoy.  So, 
darling,  I  live  upon  the  hope  that  this  war  may  some  day 
end,  that  I  may  survive  it,  and  that  you  and  I  may  spend 
many  a  happy  day  together.  God  grant  that  it  may  be  so ! 
I  had  hoped  to  have  gotten  home  this  winter,  but  I  think 
there  is  no  chance  of  it.  My  only  hope  for  a  furlough  is 
to  get  shot  or  get  sick.  This  is  the  misfortune  of  my  pro- 
motion. Before  I  could  go  and  come  when  I  pleased, 
but  now  I  am  fixed  while  the  war  lasts.  Now,  Love,  I 
will  bid  you  good-bye.    Write  often. 


Camp  Winder,  January  25,  1863. 

I  spent  yesterday  in  bed,  and  feel  to-day  like  getting 
back  into  it.  Whilst  I  have  not  lost  any  time  from  sick- 
ness since  I  last  left  home,  I  have  been  often  unwell  and 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  87 

compelled  to  lie  in  bed  for  a  day  or  two.  A  few  days' 
quiet  generally  relieves  me,  but  exposure  and  irregular 
living  generally  bring  it  on  again.  I  never  was  better 
than  when  I  came  to  the  army  last  summer ;  but  about  the 
time  of  the  battle  of  Cedar  Mountain  it  began,  and  has 
continued,  making  me  often  hardly  fit  for  duty.  It  is  in 
some  measure  owing  to  a  want  of  vegetables  and  fruit, 
and  to  bad  bread.  The  next  opportunity  I  have,  I  will 
send  to  Richmond  and  get  a  stock  of  crackers,  dried 
peaches,  etc. 

We  have  occasionally  had  an  alarm,  but  generally 
everything  has  been  quiet.  Yesterday  morning  we  had 
an  order  to  send  our  extra  baggage  to  the  rear,  but  it 
arose,  I  believe,  from  the  accidental  bursting  of  a  shell 
in  Fredericksburg,  which  set  the  armies  on  both  sides 
to  beating  the  long  roll.  My  brigade  has  been  rapidly 
increasing  in  the  last  month  by  the  return  of  sick  and 
absentees.  I  hope  by  spring  to  bring  it  up  to  2200  pres- 
ent, and  to  have  it  in  a  high  state  of  efficiency.  Then  I 
expect  some  good  service  from  it. 

You  say  you  have  forty-eight  barrels  of  flour  at  the 
lumber-house.  After  saving  for  your  own  use  what  you 
want,  get  Wm.  White  to  send  off  the  balance  and  sell 
it.  Have  the  balance  of  the  wheat  ground,  so  that  you 
may  get  the  offal,  and  send  off  the  flour.  I  wrote  you  in 
my  last  letter  a  good  deal  about  the  farm.  Let  me  hear 
in  your  next  letter  all  about  them.  I  have  but  little  time 
now  to  think  of  them,  and  trust  it  all  to  you.  If  my  work 
here  is  well  done,  it  will  occupy  my  whole  time.  I  should 
like  to  fill  my  place  here,  so  as  to  leave  it  with  some  credit 
to  myself.  To  do  this  will  leave  me  but  little  time  for 
matters  on  the  farm.  So  you  must  be  housekeeper,  over- 
seer, man  of  all  business,  and  everything.  You  may  as 
well  learn  now,  and  if  you  will  devote  your  mind  to  it 
you  will  have  no  trouble.  With  such  assistance  as  you 
can  get  from  Matt  and  your  father,  you  will  be  able  to 
get  along  very  well. 


88  ELISHA  FEANKLIN  PAXTON 

When  I  was  lying  in  bed  I  half  wished  that  I  might 
get  sick,  so  that  I  might  get  home  for  a  little  while ;  but 
I  think  my  disease  is  destined  to  take  an  unfavorable  turn 
so  as  to  deprive  me  of  that  pleasure  and  keep  me  in  camp. 

Give  my  love  to  little  Matthew  and  Galla,  and  tell  them 
I  say  they  must  be  good  boys  and  do  everything  you  tell 
them.  How  I  wish  that  I  could  be  with  you  again !  I  hope 
the  day  may  not  be  far  distant.  This  hope  is  the  last 
thing  with  which  I  wish  to  part.  Now,  darling,  good-bye. 
Write  often. 

P.S.  After  closing  and  sealing  up  my  letter,  I  break 
it  open  to  say  that  I  received  yours  of  the  17th  inst.  It 
is  sad,  Love ;  but  still  I  am  glad  to  know  that  I  am  prized 
at  home  even  by  the  baby.  God  bless  him,  and — a  more 
fervent  prayer  still — may  he  teach  me  my  duty!  Just 
here  the  Chaplain  comes  to  say  that  the  two  of  my  poor 
soldiers  condemned  to  die  desire  that  their  remains 
may  be  sent  home,  and  my  answer  was  that  all  in  my 
power  should  be  done  to  further  their  wishes.  How  I 
wish  that  I  had  some  place  where  less  responsibility  was 
thrown  upon  me !  May  God  give  me  strength  to  meet  it 
in  the  spirit  of  mercy  and  justice.  How  sad  it  is  to  think 
of  the  distress  which  this  punishment  must  bring  upon 
others !  It  makes  me  shudder  to  think  of  such  a  fate 
being  brought  upon  the  wife  and  children  of  my  own 
household.  I  feel  in  no  humor,  Love;  I  am  too  sad  to 
write  anything  which  would  please  you.    Again  good-bye. 

General  Paxton's  illness  took  the  "favorable  turn" 
which  he  hoped  for,  and  his  condition  became  such  that 
a  brief  leave  of  absence  became  necessary,  and  he  spent 
a  few  weeks  with  his  family. 


Camp  Winder,  February  20,  1863. 

I  have  been  improving  since  I  got  back  to  camp,  and 
now  begin  to  feel  that  I  am  quite  well.    I  trust  that  it 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  89 

may  continue,  for  during  the  last  six  months  I  have  suf- 
fered much  from  the  fact  that  I  have  seldom  been  very 
well. 

Until  this  morning  we  had  snow  and  rain  continually 
since  I  returned.  This  is  a  bright,  clear  morning  with 
a  strong  wind,  which  I  think  will  soon  dry  the  ground. 
As  it  is  now,  the  roads  are  so  muddy  that  it  is  next  to 
impossible  to  get  provisions  for  our  men  or  feed  for  our 
horses.  Since  I  reached  camp  I  have  been  quite  busy. 
The  day  before  yesterday  I  wrote  eight  pages  of  foolscap 
paper,  more  than  I  have  written  in  one  day  for  the  last 
two  years.  I  sometimes  think  if  my  health  were  good 
my  eyes  would  give  me  no  trouble. 

There  is  an  impression  that  a  large  part  of  the  force 
which  was  in  front  of  us  has  moved.  If  so,  it  indicates 
that  we,  too,  before  many  days  may  move,  and  that  there 
will  be  no  more  fighting  on  the  Rappahannock.  In  three 
or  four  weeks  we  will  have  spring  weather,  and  then  we 
may  expect  employment.  Where  we  will  be  in  a  month 
hence,  God  alone  knows.  Some  of  our  troops  have  al- 
ready moved,  but  their  destination  is  not  known.  It  is 
a  business  of  strange  uncertainties  which  we  follow.  For 
my  part,  I  have  gotten  used  to  it, — used  to  it  as  an  afflic- 
tion with  which  despair  and  necessity  have  made  me  con- 
tented. I  used  to  look  upon  death  as  an  event  incident 
only  to  old  age  and  the  infirmities  of  disease.  But  in  this 
business  I  have  gotten  used  to  it  as  an  every-day  occur- 
rence to  strong  and  healthy  men,  some  upon  the  battle- 
field and  others  by  the  muskets  of  their  comrades.  Four 
of  my  brigade  have  been  sentenced  to  be  shot — three  for 
desertion  and  one  for  cowardice.  It  is  a  sad  spectacle, 
and  I  sincerely  wish  that  their  lives  might  have  been 
spared.  I  trust  that  God  in  his  mercy  may  soon  grant 
us  a  safe  deliverance  from  this  bloody  business.  Such 
spectacles  witnessed  in  the  quiet  of  the  camp  are  more 
shocking  than  the  scenes  of  carnage  upon  the  battle-field. 
I  am  sick  of  such  horrors.    If  I  am  ever  blessed  with  the 


90  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

peace  and  quiet  of  home  again,  oppression  and  wrong 
must  be  severe,  indeed,  if  I  am  not  in  favor  of  submission 
rather  than  another  appeal  to  arms.  I  came  away  from 
home  without  your  miniature ;  send  it  to  me. 


Camp  Winder,  Caroline  Co.,  Va.,  March  1, 1863. 

Your  very  welcome  letter  of  Feby.  23  reached  me  day 
before  yesterday,  and  I  am  very  happy  to  hear  that  you 
are  all  well  at  home.  Very  happy,  too,  my  dear  wife, 
to  know  that  I  am  missed,  and  that  even  little  Frank 
remembers  me,  if  no  other  way  than  associated  with  the 
candy  which  coaxed  him  into  my  lap.  You  have  had  bad 
weather  for  farm  work,  and  we  have  had  as  bad  for  our 
comfort.  But  it  must  come  to  an  end.  The  war  may  last, 
but  winter  cannot.  We  will  soon  have  weather  when  you 
farmers  can  get  to  ploughing  and  we  soldiers  to  fighting. 
Since  writing  this  much  of  my  letter,  I  have  been  to 
church.  We  have  a  chapel  built  of  logs,  not  so  comfort- 
able as  some  churches  I  have  seen,  but  still  much  better 
than  the  open  air  in  winter  weather.  I  was  much  pleased 
with  the  appearance  of  my  men.  They  look  clean  and 
comfortably  dressed,  and  were  attentive  to  the  sermon. 
We  have,  it  is  true,  many  bad  men  in  the  army;  but,  as 
a  whole,  I  would  not  expect  to  find  better  men  in  any 
community  than  I  have  in  my  brigade.  I  never  saw  them 
in  better  health  or  spirits ;  and,  what  is  so  gratifying  to 
me,  Love,  they  give  me  every  evidence  of  their  affection 
and  good-will.  Winning  this,  I  feel,  is  the  proudest  and 
happiest  achievement  of  my  life.  May  God  give  me 
strength,  in  sharing  their  danger  and  providing  for  their 
comfort,  to  merit  it. 

Camp  Winder,  March  8,  1863. 

To-day  I  went  to  our  chapel  to  hear  Dr.  Hoge,  who 
preached  a  very  fine  sermon,  Genl.  Jackson  being  one  of 
the  audience.    We  have  preaching  in  the  chapel  twice  on 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  91 

Sunday,  and,  I  think,  pretty  much  every  night.  It  looks 
odd  to  see  a  church  full  of  people,  and  all  of  them  men. 
It  would  be  really  refreshing  to  see  a  woman  among  them, 
to  give  the  audience  the  appearance  of  civilization.  But 
the  women  and  children  who  adorn  our  churches  at  home 
are  missing  here.  Well  they  may  be !  I  am  glad,  at  least, 
that  mine  are  not  here  to  share  the  miseries  of  this  busi- 
ness with  me. 

During  the  past  week  it  has  been  a  blow  or  rain,  a 
hurricane  or  a  shower,  all  the  time.  The  wind  seems  to 
dry  up  the  ground,  taking  the  water  up  somewhere,  and 
it  is  no  sooner  up  than  down  it  comes  again. 

In  army  matters  we  have  the  most  profound  quiet. 
It  has  been  so  long  since  I  have  heard  a  musket  or  a 
cannon  that  I  have  almost  forgotten  how  it  sounds.  I 
suppose,  however,  in  the  course  of  a  month  we  will  have 
something  to  refresh  our  memories  and  revive  old  scenes. 
Yes,  we  will  have  the  long  roll  to  warn  the  men  that 
another  battle  is  imminent ;  then  the  solemn  march  to  the 
scene  of  the  conflict,  each  pondering  upon  the  misty  fu- 
ture ;  then  we  are  halted  and  our  line  of  skirmishers  thrown 
to  the  front;  then  we  have  the  occasional  shots,  which 
gradually  thicken  and  extend  until  there  is  one  continual 
roar  of  musketry  and  artillery;  and,  perhaps,  to  close 
the  scene,  we  lie  down  exhausted  to  sleep  upon  the  field, 
among  the  dead  and  dying.  You  civil  people  at  home 
all  look  upon  this  as  terrible.  So  it  is,  but  we  soldiers 
must  get  used  to  it ;  each  waiting  in  patience  for  his  time 
to  fall  among  those  who  rise  no  more  for  the  contest. 

Give  my  love  to  Lou  [his  wife 's  sister]  and  say  to  her 
that  Mr.  Newman's  regiment  is  now  at  Fredericksburg; 
that  I  will  send  up  to  him  and  let  him  know  to-morrow 
that  his  box  is  at  the  depot;  and  that  I  will  write  to  an 
officer  from  my  brigade  who  is  on  duty  at  the  depot  to 
take  charge  of  it  until  he  sends  for  it.  I  was  very  sorry, 
indeed,  that  I  was  not  able  to  bring  the  other  box  with  me. 

I  have  had  more  to  do  of  late  than  usual,  and  have 


92  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

sometimes  spent  four  or  five  hours  at  my  writing-desk,— 
not,  however,  without  some  pain  in  my  eyes  when  I  quit 
work.  I  am  able  to  keep  pretty  well  when  I  live  on  rice 
and  bread,  but  if  I  eat  a  hearty  meal  it  puts  me  out  of 
order  again.  I  hope  by  care  to  keep  fit  for  duty,  but  do 
not  expect  to  get  right  well  until  I  get  a  better  diet  and 
am  able  to  lead  a  more  regular  life.  I  heartily  wish  that 
I  were  right  well.  It  gives  me  much  anxiety  lest,  when 
my  services  are  most  needed,  I  shall  prove  unfit  for  duty 
and  be  compelled  to  leave  my  brigade  in  charge  of  some 
one  else. 

Camp  Winder,  March  15, 1863. 

I  will  devote  a  part  of  this  quiet  Sunday  evening  to  a 
letter  home.  Our  camp  looks  to-day  like  it  was  Sunday. 
We  stop  our  usual  work  when  Sunday  comes,  and,  like 
Christian  people,  devote  it  to  rest.  To-day  I  attended 
our  church  and  listened  to  a  very  earnest  and  impressive 
sermon  from  one  of  our  chaplains.  He  is  one  of  the  best 
men  and  best  chaplains  I  ever  knew.  He  devotes  his 
whole  time  to  his  duties,  and  remains  all  the  time  with 
his  regiment,  sharing  their  wants  and  privations.  I  am 
sorry  to  say  we  have  few  such  in  the  army.  Many  of 
them  are  frequently  away,  whilst  others  stay  at  houses 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  camp,  coming  occasionally 
to  their  regiments. 

To-day  I  had  a  visit  from  the  father  and  mother  of  a 
poor  fellow  who  has  been  tried  by  a  court  martial  for 
cowardice.  She  was  in  great  distress,  and  said  it  would 
be  bad  enough  to  have  her  boy  shot  by  the  enemy,  but 
she  did  not  think  she  could  survive  his  being  shot  by  our 
own  men.  I  gave  her  what  comfort  I  could,  telling  her 
his  sentence  had  not  been  published  and  there  was  no 
means  of  knowing  that  he  was  sentenced  to  be  shot ;  that 
if  it  turned  out  to  be  so  when  the  sentence  was  published, 
she  could  petition  the  President  for  his  pardon;  that  he 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  93 

was  a  good  man  and  would  pardon  her  son  if  it  was  not 
an  aggravated  case.  I  pitied  her,  she  seemed  so  much 
distressed.  I  heartily  wish  this  sad  part  of  my  duties 
were  over.  I  have  about  twenty  of  my  men  in  close  con- 
finement, whose  sentences  have  not  been  published,  many 
of  whom  are  condemned  to  death.  It  is  for  Gen'l  Lee 
to  determine  what  shall  be  done  with  them. 

Whilst  I  write  the  sleet  and  hail  are  falling  fast,  ac- 
companied by  frequent  claps  of  thunder,  cold  and  chilly 
withal.  Winter,  it  seems,  will  never  end.  Last  week  it 
was  all  the  while  a  severe  wind  and  freezing  cold.  I 
really  don't  care  much  now  how  long  it  lasts.  I  do  not 
wish  to  move  from  here  until  spring  is  fairly  opened. 
My  men  are  comfortably  fixed  here,  and  when  we  move 
the  huts  must  be  left  behind,  and,  besides  this,  most  of 
the  blankets  sent  off,  as  we  have  no  wagons  to  haul  them. 
My  men,  I  fear,  when  we  move  will  have  to  get  along 
with  such  clothing  and  blankets  as  they  can  carry.  Many 
of  our  horses  have  died  this  winter  for  want  of  forage, 
and  those  that  remain  are  much  reduced  in  flesh  and 
strength. 

I  have  received  your  miniature,  reminding  me  of  times 
when  you  and  I  were  young ;  of  happy  hours  spent,  a  long 
time  ago,  when  I  used  to  frequent  your  parlor  in  the  hope 
that  you  might  be  what  you  now  are,  my  darling  wife. 
Then  the  present  was  overflowing  with  happiness,  the 
future  bright  and  beautiful.  We  have  seen  much  of  each 
other,  much  of  life,  its  joys  and  sorrows,  since  then.  By 
the  grave  of  our  first  child  we  have  known  together  the 
deep  sorrow  of  parting  with  those  we  love  forever.  In 
this  long  absence  of  two  years,  we  have  felt  the  sadness 
of  a  separation  with  such  chance  of  its  being  forever 
as  we  did  not  dream  of  when  we  began  life  together.  May 
God  in  his  mercy  soon  bring  us  together  in  our  dear 
home,  never  to  separate  again,  to  spend  what  of  life  is 
left  to  us  in  peace  and  happiness.    Good-bye. 


94  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

Camp  Winder,  March  22, 1863. 

I  am  grateful  to  yon  for  the  tender  interest  in  my  health 
manifested  in  your  last  letter,  received  some  days  since. 
For  the  last  week  I  have  felt  better  than  I  have  before 
this  winter.  I  have  gotten  a  half -bushel  of  dried  peaches 
from  Richmond,  and,  living  upon  these  for  the  most  part, 
I  have  improved  very  much.  I  am  so  much  pleased  with 
the  medicine  that  I  think  I  shall  send  to  Richmond  and 
get  another  bushel.  So,  I  think,  you  may  give  up  your 
idea  of  a  furlough. 

It  commenced  snowing  again  on  Thursday  evening,  and 
snowed  or  rained  all  day  Friday  and  Saturday.  To-day 
the  sun  is  shining  brightly,  the  birds  chirping,  and  some 
signs  of  spring  again.  I  hope  now  we  may  have  good 
weather,  and  that  you  may  be  able  to  make  some  speed 
with  your  farm  work. 

I  had  an  unexpected  visitor  at  my  tent  yesterday  even- 
ing—Mr. Junkin  of  Falling  Spring  Church.  I  divided 
my  bed  with  him,  and  did  what  I  could  to  make  him  com- 
fortable. He  has  special  claims  upon  my  hospitality  as 
the  pastor  of  my  old  church.  It  is  associated  in  my  mind 
with  many  loved  friends  who  have  now  gone  to  their  long 
homes,  and  from  it  I  derived  my  earliest  impressions 
of  the  church  and  the  pastor.  Twenty  long  years  have 
passed  since  I  used  to  go  there  to  church.  I  have  grown 
that  much  older,  but  I  fear  not  much  wiser  or  better.  I 
remember  and  reverence  the  teachings  of  my  venerable 
pastor,  but  have  not  made  them  the  guide  of  my  life  as 
I  ought  to  have  done. 

I  laid  aside  my  pencil  and  paper  just  here  to  go  over 
and  hear  a  sermon  from  Mr.  Junkin.  It  was  impressive 
and  eloquent.  When  he  alluded  to  our  missing  comrades 
of  the  past  campaign,  there  was  a  solemn  stillness,  and 
many  eyes  moistened  with  tears.  It  is  sad,  indeed,  to 
think  now  how  many  good  men  we  have  lost.  Those  upon 
whom  we  all  looked  as  distinguished  for  purity  of  char- 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  95 

acter  as  men,  and  for  gallantry  as  soldiers,  seem  to  have 
been  the  first  victims.  I  never  saw  an  audience  more  at- 
tentive than  our  soldiers  are  at  church.  The  great  mass 
of  them  are  good  men,  who  have  not  lost  in  the  army 
the  habits  which  they  learned  in  their  churches  at  home. 
I  like  to  see  those  whose  lives  may  be  spared  to  return 
home  without  being  contaminated  with  the  vices  of  the 
army. 

Camp  Winder,  March  31, 1863. 

You  will  have,  in  your  troubles  on  the  farm,  much  to  try 
your  patience.  My  advice  to  you  is  to  bear  it  all  in  good 
temper,  to  know  all  that  is  going  on;  and  by  devoting 
your  mind  to  it  you  will  find  that  you  succeed  much  better 
than  you  anticipate.  There  is  no  work  so  profitable  in 
one 's  business  as  thinking  about  it.  I  have  always  found 
that  when  I  was  interested  in  what  I  had  on  hand,  and 
thought  much  about  it,  that  I  found  some  good  and  easy 
plan  of  accomplishing  what  I  wanted  to  do.  I  have,  as 
you  know,  short  as  my  life  has  been,  followed  all  sorts 
of  trades.  I  have  been  lawyer,  banker,  farmer,  soldier, 
etc.,  and  any  success  which  I  have  met  with  I  ascribe  to 
the  thinking  which  I  have  devoted  to  the  business.  You, 
I  doubt  not,  have  found  the  same  about  your  house- 
keeping. Now  apply  this  to  the  farm,  and  you  will  have 
an  easy  time. 

Whilst  I  value  your  love  as  the  best  treasure  which  I 
have  on  earth,  I  would  not  have  you  harass  yourself  with 
a  painful  anxiety  about  my  fate.  The  thread  by  which 
I  hold  my  life  is  brittle,  indeed,  and  may  be  severed  any 
day.  I  have  thought  much  of  it,  and  think  that  I  feel 
content  to  accept  whatever  fate  God's  justice  and  mercy 
has  in  store  for  me ;  and  my  prayer  is  that  he  will  give 
me  such  faith,  repentance  and  conformity  to  the  law  of 
his  holy  Gospel  as  is  required  of  the  sinner.  I  feel  that 
I  can  say,  "If  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me; 


96  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

but  thy  will  be  done."  Sooner  or  later  I  must  drink  it, 
and  if  it  be  God's  will  that  it  be  now,  I  am  content. 
Sooner  or  later  I  must  die,  and,  if  prepared  to  die,  my 
life  can  never  be  given  to  such  a  cause  as  that  in  which 
it  is  now  staked.  I  may  survive  the  dangers  before  me ; 
many  thousands  will.  If  such  be  the  will  of  God,  I  trust 
that  his  law  may  be  the  guide  in  what  remains  for  me  of 
life.  Sooner  or  later,  darling,  the  ties  which  bind  me 
to  you  and  the  children  of  our  home  must  be  severed 
forever.  If  I  be  the  first  to  go,  and  the  charge  devolve 
upon  you,  teach  them,  as  the  experience  of  their  father's 
life,  that  there  is  no  honor  on  this  earth  save  in  the  path 
which  God's  Word  points  out  for  the  humble  and  contrite 
Christian.  Outside  of  this  there  is  no  success  in  life, 
no  wealth  or  distinction  which  does  not  bring  wretched- 
ness as  the  reward  for  the  labor  which  it  costs.  Perhaps 
there  may  be  many  years  of  happiness  in  store  for  us, 
dark  and  bloody  as  the  future  may  seem.  May  God  in 
his  mercy  end  the  struggle ! 


Camp  Winder,  April  12,  1863. 

Your  letter  of  April  7th  came  to  hand  yesterday,  bring- 
ing the  welcome  intelligence  of  all  well  at  home.  I  will 
spend  part  of  this  quiet  Sabbath  in  writing  to  you  in 
answer  to  it.  It  is  a  very  pleasant  and  warm  April  day, 
—so  pleasant  that  our  log  church  has  been  abandoned 
and  the  chaplains  had  service  in  the  open  air.  I  witnessed 
to-day  what  I  never  saw  before:  the  sacrament  admin- 
istered in  the  army.  It  was,  indeed,  a  solemn  and  im- 
pressive scene ;  a  congregation  composed  entirely  of  men, 
standing  around  in  the  circle  of  which  the  chaplain  was 
the  center,  receiving  the  bread  and  wine  in  renewal  of 
their  vows  and  fellowship  as  Christians. 

A  number  were  admitted  for  the  first  time  to  the  sacra- 
ment, and  received  into  the  church.  The  whole  assembly 
wore  such  an  air  of  seriousness  and  devotion  as  I  have 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  97 

seldom  witnessed  before.  There  was  no  excitement,  but 
an  exhibition  of  earnest  devotion  in  the  discharge  of  the 
highest  duty  on  earth.  Far  away  from  wife,  mother 
and  sister,  separated  from  them  perhaps  forever  in  this 
world,  they  met,  this  mild  April  Sabbath,  in  the  open  air, 
some  of  them  for  the  first  time,  and  others  to  renew  their 
sacramental  vows  of  faith  in  Christ  and  fresh  exertion 
to  deserve  his  mercy.  Men  like  these,  however  gloomy 
the  future  may  be,  look  to  it  pleasantly  and  happily,  con- 
tented to  receive  whatever  of  good  or  ill  God  has  in  store 
for  them  with  the  supplication,  "Thy  will  be  done!" 
Relying  with  implicit  faith  upon  his  mercy,  the  future 
is  stripped  of  its  gloom  and  becomes  all  bright,  beautiful 
and  happy.  To  such  men  death  is  no  enemy,  but  a  mes- 
senger expected  from  God  sooner  or  later,  and  welcome 
as  the  quick  path  to  a  holier  and  happier  life.  With  such 
soldiers  in  our  army  and  such  men  at  home,  we  might 
bid  defiance  to  all  the  boasted  numbers  and  strength  of 
our  enemies  and  feel  sure  of  victory.  But  it  is  sadly 
true  that  the  mass  of  our  men  here  and  at  home  are  not 
of  this  type.  Very  many  of  our  officers  and  soldiers— 
very  many  more,  I  think,  of  our  people  at  home— have 
grown  worse  instead  of  better  by  the  calamity  which  has 
fallen  upon  us.  It  is  strange  that  it  should  be  so ;  strange 
that  adversity  makes  us  no  wiser  and  better;  that  our 
depravity  grows  deeper  and  darker  in  proportion  to  the 
severity  of  affliction.  How  little  we  know  of  the  future ! 
Last  Sunday  I  thought  another  week  could  not  pass  with- 
out more  blood.  The  reasons  which  prevented  it  during 
the  winter— the  weather  and  the  roads — no  longer  exist. 
We  have  for  some  days  had  good  weather  and  good  roads, 
and  no  reason  why  the  enemy  should  not  advance,  if  so 
disposed.  I  place  but  little  confidence  in  my  judgment 
as  to  what  will  happen;  but  I  have  rather  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  enemy  does  not  mean  to  attack  us  here. 
There  is  nothing  which  seems  to  indicate  an  advance.  I 
am  inclined  to  believe  we  have  nearly  as  many  men  at 


98  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

our  command  here  as  they  have  opposed  to  us,  and  I 
think  it  likely  they  know  it. 

Their  balloons  go  up  every  day,  and  from  these  they 
have  a  full  view  of  the  location  of  all  of  our  troops;  I 
suppose  we  shall  have  some  activity  after  a  while.  If 
they  do  not  move,  we  shall,  I  think.  Whenever  the  strug- 
gle comes,  I  feel  sure  of  success— that  God  will  bless  us 
with  another  signal  victory.  We  have  a  just  cause  and 
a  splendid  army,  and  I  trust  that  our  next  engagement 
may  be  attended  with  such  signal  success  that  much  will 
be  accomplished  towards  closing  the  war.  I  look  to  the 
future  with  much  confidence.  Many  of  us  must  go  down 
in  the  struggle,  never  to  rise  again.  Such  may  be  my 
fate.  Sometimes  I  try  never  to  let  my  hopes  fix  upon 
anything  beyond  the  war,  such  is  the  uncertainty  of  sur- 
viving it.  Then  I  find  myself  happy  in  the  dream  and 
hope  of  the  time  when  it  will  all  be  over,  and  I  shall  be 
with  you  again,  to  spend  the  rest  of  life  in  peace  and  quiet. 
God  will  that  it  may  be  so !  If  not,  I  am  content.  Sooner 
or  later  we  must  separate  in  this  life,  and  it  will  be  when- 
ever God  so  wills  it.  Despondency  and  despair  under  such 
circumstances  is  foolish  and  sinful.  Far  better  to  be 
contented  and  complaisant,  ready  to  do  our  duty  and  sub- 
mit in  patience  to  our  fate,  whatever  it  may  be. 

And  now,  darling,  good-bye.  Give  my  love  to  Matthew 
and  Galla,  and  a  kiss  to  little  Frank.  Write  often,  and 
believe  me,  dearest,  ever  yours. 


Camp  Winder,  April  20, 1863. 

I  received  your  welcome  letter  of  the  15th  inst.  on  Sat- 
urday. I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  that  Jack  is  still  unfit 
for  work,  and  that  Phebe,  too,  has  taken  sick.  Bear  it 
all  in  patience,  and  do  the  best  you  can.  I  would  be  very 
glad,  indeed,  if  you  would  hire  another.  Pay  almost  any 
price  rather  than  not  get  one.  If  you  get  behindhand 
with  the  work,  you  will  not  soon  get  it  up. 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  99 

As  to  C,  I  can 't  be  far  wrong.  He  is  not  as  bad  as  you 
think  he  is;  but  even  if  he  cheats  me  out  of  the  whole 
crop,  it  would  be  better  than  to  leave  it  idle.  Somebody, 
and  certainly  the  country,  will  get  the  benefit  of  the  crop, 

if  we  do  not.    As  to  the  pay  for  grazing  Mr. 's  cattle, 

you  are  right;  say  nothing  to  your  father  about  it.  I 
would  rather  lose  the  price  than  have  an  unkind  feeling 
about  it.  I  have  a  strong  aversion  to  having  any  busi- 
ness transactions  with  my  kin,  as  they  are  so  often  the 
cause  of  ill  feeling. 

I  have  been  waiting  for  nearly  a  week  for  a  fair  day 
to  change  my  camp,  and  moved  this  morning,  hoping 
to  have  sunshine  for  one  day  at  least  to  fix  up.  But  I 
have  been  unfortunate.  I  had  hardly  reached  the  new 
camp  before  the  rain  commenced,  and  my  men,  I  fear, 
being  poorly  provided  with  tents,  have  suffered  much 
from  it.  My  old  camp,  I  thought,  from  the  accumulation 
of  filth  during  the  winter,  was  the  cause  of  an  increase 
of  sickness  among  the  men.  I  hope  now,  as  we  have  a 
good  supply  of  spring  water  and  clean  ground,  that  the 
health  of  the  men  will  be  better.  I  have  hardly  ever 
known  the  army  so  quiet  as  now.  We  had  every  reason 
to  believe  that  as  soon  as  the  spring  opened  the  enemy 
would  advance  and  we  should  have  a  great  battle,  in 
which  I  anticipated  a  splendid  victory,  but  heavy  loss. 
Three  weeks  of  spring  have  passed,  and  so  far  from  an 
advance,  there  is  every  indication  that  there  will  be  none. 
So,  too,  all  along  the  line.  There  seems  no  disposition 
on  the  part  of  the  enemy  to  hazard  an  advance.  How 
different  the  future  now  from  this  time  last  year !  Then 
the  enemy  were  pressing  at  every  point,  and  all  was 
gloomy  for  us.  Now  it  is  all  bright  and  prosperous.  If 
we  wait  for  activity  here  from  the  enemy,  we  will,  I  think, 
remain  in  this  camp  all  summer.  The  prospect  is  not  so 
cheering  when  we  look  within  our  lines.  Christian  people 
have  forsaken  the  God  of  their  fathers  for  the  sake  of 
money,  an  idol  worse  than  images  of  metal  or  stone. 


100  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

The  President's  patriotic  appeal,  I  see,  is  answered 
by  the  committee  of  one  county :  ' '  Hay,  twenty  cents  per 
pound";  by  that  of  another:  "Wheat,  $6.50  per  bushel." 
I  do  not  believe  there  is  such  a  scarcity  as  to  justify  such 
figures,  but  the  famine  is  of  Christian  charity  and  public 
spirit.  Men  wish  to  grow  rich  upon  the  miseries  of  their 
country,  and  there  is  no  limit  to  their  extortions.  All 
seem  holding  back  what  they  have  in  the  hope  that  a 
starving  army  will  raise  the  price  of  bread  and  meat 
still  higher.  God  will  give  us  the  blessing  of  indepen- 
dence and  peace  fully  as  soon  as  we  deserve  it;  and  our 
prayer  should  be  now  not  so  much  for  victory  to  our 
arms  as  for  patriotism  and  charity  to  our  people,  wisdom 
and  integrity  to  our  rulers.  The  depravity  of  mankind 
is  alike  the  great  truth  and  the  great  wonder  of  the  uni- 
verse. These  times  seem  to  develop  it  in  a  degree  of 
monstrosity  which  we  could  never  have  supposed  it  would 
obtain. 

And  now,  darling,  good-bye.  Give  my  love  to  dear 
little  Matthew  and  Galla,  and  kiss  little  Frank.  May  God 
bless  and  take  care  of  you  all ! 

No  date,  first  page  of  letter  being  lost.    Probably  April  27,  1863. 

We  had  a  snow  here  on  Saturday  night  which  contin- 
ued yesterday  morning  and  is  now  about  gone.  The  roads 
are  now  in  pretty  good  condition,  and  if  the  enemy  wish  to 
make  the  attack,  there  is,  I  think,  no  reason  now  for  de- 
ferring it  on  account  of  the  roads.  But,  darling,  there 
is  no  telling  when  it  will  be.  The  future,  ever  a  mystery, 
is  more  mysterious  now  than  ever  before.  Our  destiny 
is  in  the  hands  of  God,  infinite  in  his  justice,  goodness 
and  mercy ;  and  I  feel  that  in  such  time  as  he  may  appoint 
he  will  give  us  the  blessings  of  independence  and  peace. 
We  are  a  wicked  people,  and  the  chastisement  which  we 
have  suffered  has  not  humbled  and  improved  us  as  it 
ought.  We  have  a  just  cause,  but  we  do  not  deserve 
success  if  those  who  are  here  spend  this  time  in  bias- 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  101 

phemy  and  wickedness,  and  those  who  are  at  home  devote 
their  energies  to  avarice  and  extortion.  Fasting  and 
prayer  by  such  a  people  is  blasphemy,  and,  if  answered 
at  all,  will  be  by  an  infliction  of  God's  wrath,  not  a  dis- 
pensation of  his  mercy. 

The  future,  as  you  say,  darling,  is  dark  enough. 
Though  sound  in  health  and  strength,  I  feel  that  life  to 
many  of  us  hangs  upon  a  slender  thread.  Whenever  God 
wills  it  that  mine  pass  from  me,  I  feel  that  I  can  say 
in  calm  resignation,  "Into  thy  hands  I  commend  my 
spirit."  In  this  feeling  I  am  prepared  to  go  forward 
in  the  discharge  of  my  duty,  striving  to  make  every  act 
and  thought  of  my  life  conform  to  his  law,  and  trusting 
with  implicit  faith  in  the  salvation  promised  through 
Christ.  How  I  wish  that  I  were  better  than  I  feel  that  I 
am ;  that  when  I  close  my  eyes  to-night  I  might  feel  cer- 
tain that  every  thought,  act  and  feeling  of  to-morrow 
would  have  its  motive  in  love  for  God  and  its  object  in 
his  glory !  Well,  so  it  is.  Why  is  it  we  cannot  feel  sure 
that  the  sins  of  the  past  are  never  to  be  repeated?  May 
God  give  me  strength  to  be  what  I  ought  to  be— to  do 
what  I  ought  to  do !  And  now,  darling,  good-bye.  When 
we  meet  again,  I  hope  you  will  have  a  better  husband- 
that  your  prayer  and  mine  may  be  answered. 


CHAPTER  V 

Telegram 

May  3, 1863. 

The  enemy  was  dislodged  from  all  his  positions  around 
Chancellorsville  and  driven  back  towards  the  Rap- 
pahannock, over  which  he  is  now  retreating.  We 
have  to  thank  Almighty  God  for  a  great  victory.  I  regret 
to  state  that  Gen'l  Paxton  was  killed,  Gen'l  Jackson  se- 
verely and  Gen'l  Heath  and  D.  H.  Hill  slightly  wounded. 

(Signed)  R.  E.  Lee, 

Gen'l  Commdg. 

Letter  from  Henry  K.  Douglas  to  Mrs.  Paxton 

May  4,  1863. 

Madam:  As  the  senior  officer  of  Gen'l  Paxton 's  staff, 
and  a  person  with  whom  he  was  probably  more  intimate 
than  with  any  one  in  the  brigade,  I  deem  it  my  duty,  al- 
though a  painful  one,  to  notify  you  of  the  circumstances 
of  his  death.  He  fell  yesterday  morning  while  bravely 
leading  his  brigade  into  action,  and  lived  only  about  an 
hour  after  receiving  his  wound.  As  soon  as  he  was  struck 
he  lifted  his  hand  to  his  breast-pocket.  In  that  pocket 
I  knew  he  kept  his  Bible  and  the  picture  of  his  wife,  and 
his  thoughts  were«at  that  moment  of  heaven  and  his  home. 
Beloved  and  esteemed  by  officers  and  men,  his  loss  is 
deeply  mourned,  and  the  brigade  mingle  their  tears  with 
those  of  his  family  relations. 

I  have  for  some  time  thought  that  the  General  expected 

102 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  103 

the  first  battle  in  which  he  led  his  brigade  would  be  his 
last,  and  I  had  observed,  and  am  satisfied  from  various 
conversations  with  him,  that  he  was  preparing  his  mind 
and  soul  for  the  occasion.  It  is  a  consolation  to  know 
that  while  he  nobly  did  his  duty  in  the  field  and  camp 
without  regard  to  personal  consequences,  he  had  been 
convinced  that  there  was  a  home  beyond  this  earth  where 
the  good  would  receive  an  eternal  reward.  For  that  home 
he  had  richly  prepared  himself,  and,  I  confidently  hope, 
is  there  now.  Almost  the  last  time  I  saw  him,  and  just 
before  the  brigade  moved  forward  into  the  fight,  he  was 
sitting  behind  his  line  of  troops,  and,  amidst  the  din  of 
artillery  and  the  noise  of  shell  bursting  around  him, 
he  was  calmly  reading  his  Bible  and  there  preparing  him- 
self like  a  Christian  soldier  for  the  contest. 

Dr.  Cox,  A.  D.  C,  has  already  departed  with  his  body 
for  home. 


Lettee  fkom  Heney  K.  Douglas  to  J.  G.  Paxtobt 

Hagerstown,  Md.,  Feb.  18, 1893. 

Yours  of  the  14th  is  received  to-day.  I  knew  your 
father  very  well.  When  he  was  on  the  staff  of  Gen'l 
Jackson,  so  was  I;  and  for  a  time,  when  he  commanded 
the  Stonewall  Brigade,  I  was  the  A.  A.  G.  and  A.  I.  G.  of 
the  brigade,  in  rank  its  senior  staff  officer.  My  relations 
with  him  were  very  close— indeed,  confidential. 

I  had  observed,  during  the  winter  of  1862-63,  a  growing 
seriousness  on  his  part  in  every  respect.  There  was  no- 
thing morbid  about  it,  but  he  was  much  given  to  religious 
thought  and  conversation.  He  was  a  very  regular  reader 
of  the  Bible,  and,  I  think,  often  talked  with  Gen'l  Jackson 
on  the  same  subject.  He  was  thoroughly  impressed  with 
the  conviction  that  he  would  die  early  in  the  opening 
campaign,  and  was  determined  to  prepare  for  that  fate. 

In  my  letter  to  your  mother,  written  the  day  after  his 


104  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

death,  I  merely  alluded  to  certain  conversations  which  I 
will  now  explain  more  explicitly. 

The  night  of  the  2nd,  Gen'l  Paxton  seemed— as  we  in 
fact  all  were— very  much  depressed  at  the  wounding  of 
Gen'l  Jackson.  Late  that  night,  in  the  course  of  a  con- 
versation with  me,  your  father  quietly  but  with  evident 
conviction  expressed  his  belief  that  he  would  be  killed 
the  next  day.  He  told  me  where  in  his  office  desk  certain 
papers  were  tied  up  and  labelled  in  regard  to  his  business, 
and  asked  me  to  write  to  his  wife  immediately  after  his 
death.  I  was  young  and  not  given  to  seriousness  then; 
but  I  was  so  impressed  with  his  sadness  and  earnestness, 
and  all  the  gloom  of  the  surroundings,  that  I  did  not  leave 
him  until  after  midnight. 

The  next  morning  we  were  astir  very  early.  I  found 
Gen'l  Paxton  sitting  near  a  fence,  in  rear  of  his  line, 
with  his  back  against  a  tree,  reading  the  Bible.  He  re- 
ceived me  cheerfully.  I  had  been  with  him  but  a  few 
minutes  when  the  order  came  for  his  brigade  to  move. 
He  put  the  Bible  in  his  breast-pocket,  and  directing  me 
to  take  the  left  of  the  brigade,  he  moved  off  to  the  right 
of  it.  I  never  saw  him  again.  I  find,  in  looking  at  my 
brief  diary  of  that  day,  that  he  had  been  killed  for  some 
time  before  I  knew  it,  and  that  I  was  commanding  the 
brigade  by  issuing  orders  in  his  name  long  after  his 
death.  When  I  knew  of  it,  I  informed  Col.  Funk,  who 
immediately  assumed  command.  I  mentioned  in  the  let- 
ter to  your  mother  that  he  lived  an  hour  after  his  wound- 
ing. Capt.  Barton  says  this  is  an  error,  and  it  is  prob- 
able he  is  correct.  I  was  not  with  Gen  '1  Paxton  when  he 
was  shot,  and  I  suppose  that  what  I  stated  in  my  letter 
was  obtained  from  some  one  else.  Capt.  Barton  was 
with  the  General.  I  find  this  in  my  notes:  "I  missed 
Gen'l  Paxton  and  the  rest  of  the  staff;  but  as  I  missed 
part  of  the  2nd  Regiment,  I  thought  it  and  the  General 
had  become  temporarily  separated  from  the  rest  of  the 
Brigade."    I  find  in  my  notes  of  the  4th:  "I  wrote  a  let- 


MEMOIE  AND  MEMORIALS  105 

ter  to  Mrs.  Paxton  concerning  the  death  of  the  General. ' ' 
This  is  the  letter  a  copy  of  which  you  sent  me,  and  I  am 
very  glad  to  get  it. 

Gen'l  Paxton  was  a  unique  character.  He  was  a  man 
of  intense  convictions  and  the  courage  of  them.  Kind- 
hearted,  he  was  often  brusque  to  rudeness.  He  was  con- 
scientious in  the  discharge  of  his  duties,  and  painstaking. 
He  was  of  excellent  judgment,  slow  and  sure,  and  yet 
fond  of  dash  in  others.  He  was  esteemed  by  the  officers, 
beloved  by  the  men,  and  respected  by  all.  He  was  an 
excellent  officer,  a  faithful,  brave  and  conscientious  sol- 
dier. He  had  a  keen  sense  of  humor,  well  restrained,  and 
often  laughed  at  and  condoned  recklessness  of  which  he 
did  not  approve.  I  think  I  must  have  tried  him  often; 
but  if  so,  he  never  let  me  know  it.  I  had  his  friendship, 
and  in  all  his  friendships  he  was  staunch  and  true. 

P.S.  I  find  this  in  the  account  of  my  interview  with 
Gen'l  Jackson  on  Sunday  evening,  the  3rd:  "He  spoke 
feelingly  of  Gen'l  Paxton  and  Capt.  Boswell,  both  dead, 
and  his  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  he  mentioned  their  names. 
He  asked  me  to  tell  him  all  about  the  movements  of  the 
old  brigade.  When  I  described  to  him  its  evolutions: 
how  Gen'l  Paxton  was  reading  his  Bible  when  the  order 
came  to  advance;  how  he  was  shortly  afterwards  mor- 
tally wounded;  how  Gen'l  Stuart  led  the  brigade  in  per- 
son, shouting,  "Charge,  and  remember  Jackson!"  etc., 
etc.,  his  eyes  lighted  up  with  the  fire  of  battle  as  he  ex- 
claimed, "It  was  just  like  them— just  like  them!" 

Lettee  from  Randolph  Barton  to  J.  G.  Paxton 

Baltimore,  Md.,  Sept.  14,  1885. 

My  recollection  is  that  in  the  summer  or  September  of 
1862,  your  father,  who  up  to  that  time  had  been  a  mem- 
ber of  the  staff  of  Gen'l  Jackson  (Stonewall),  was  by  that 


106  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

officer  appointed  to  the  command  of  the  Stonewall  Brig- 
ade,—Gen '1  Winder,  its  last  commander,  having  been 
killed  at  Cedar  Mountain. 

I  was  a  brevet  second  lieutenant  in  Co.  K,  2nd  Va. 
Infantry,  Stonewall  Brigade,  during  the  winter  of  1862- 
1863,  and  your  father  was  at  that  time  acting  Brigadier- 
Gen '1.  Early  in  1863,  upon  the  recommendation  of  Mr. 
Henry  K.  Douglas,  your  father  detailed  me  to  act  as  Assis- 
tant Adjutant- Gen '1  of  the  brigade,  and  about  March  or 
April,  1863,  I  left  my  company  and  went  to  his  head- 
quarters. A  little  later  the  Confederate  Congress  con- 
firmed his  appointment  as  Brigadier-General,  and  there- 
upon, although  he  did  not  positively  tell  me  that  he  wished 
me  to  remain  with  him  permanently,  he  suggested  that  I 
should  supply  myself  with  a  horse,  which  I  took  as  a 
hopeful  sign  of  my  promotion. 

My  impressions  are  not  clear,  at  this  length  of  time, 
as  to  your  father's  religious  life  during  the  period  imme- 
diately preceding  the  opening  of  the  campaign  of  1863, 
but  I  am  sure  he  daily  read  his  Bible,  and  on  Sunday 
went  to  the  brigade's  religious  services,  held  in  a  large, 
rude  log  house,  in  which  I  remember  distinctly  to  have 
seen  Gen'l  Jackson  with  great  regularity. 

On  the  afternoon  of  May  2,  1863,  about  three  o'clock, 
Gen'l  Jackson's  command  completed  the  flank  movement 
which  placed  him  in  Hooker's  rear.  Your  father's  brig- 
ade brought  up  the  rear  of  the  column,  and  as  it  emerged 
from  the  dense  pine  forest  and  blinding  dust  upon  the 
plank  road  leading  from  Orange  C.  H.  to  Chancellorsville 
and  Fredericksburg,  Gen'l  Jackson  halted  it,  allowed  the 
rest  of  the  column  to  go  on,  and  for  some  moments,  seated 
on  a  fallen  log  back  in  the  woods,  engaged  your  father  in 
earnest  conversation. 

Gen'l  Jackson  then  rejoined  his  column,  your  father 
formed  his  brigade  across  the  road,  about  evenly  divided 
by  the  road,  and  with  his  staff  advanced  down  the  road 
some  few  hundred  yards.    After  a  while  firing  commenced 


MEMOIE  AND  MEMORIALS  107 

on  the  left,  and  one  of  us  was  despatched  by  your  father 
to  bring  up  the  brigade  in  line  of  battle,  which  was  done, 
and  by  nightfall  we  had  resumed  our  position  at  the  right 
of  Gren'l  Jackson's  line.  The  enemy  had  been  completely 
surprised  by  the  advance  on  our  left,  had  fled  in  great  con- 
fusion, and  our  brigade  had  been  very  slightly  engaged. 

We  spent  the  early  hours  of  that  night  on  the  roadside, 
or  in  shifting  positions.  Finally,  about  one  o'clock  the 
next  morning,  we  got  into  the  line  of  battle  not  far  from 
the  enemy.  Our  rest  was  constantly  broken  by  volleys 
of  musketry,  and  we  all  knew  that  daybreak  would  usher 
in  an  awful  conflict.  I  was  close  to  your  father  all  this 
time,  as  my  duty  required,  and  recall  now  with  vivid  dis- 
tinctness the  fact  that  he  was  dressed  in  a  handsome  gray 
suit,  which  had  only  a  day  or  so  before  been  received 
from  Richmond,  having  on  its  collar  the  insignia  of  a 
Brigadier-Gen '1.  Perhaps  the  wreath  was  not  on  the 
collar,  only  the  stars,— one  of  your  father's  characteris- 
tics being  aversion  to  display.  By  the  very  first  dawn 
of  day,  when  with  difficulty  print  could  be  read,  your 
father  opened  a  Bible,— a  very  thick,  short  volume,  prob- 
ably gilt-edged,— read  for  some  time,  and  as  the  sound 
of  approaching  conflict  increased,  carefully  replaced  it 
in  his  left  breast-pocket,  over  his  heart.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments a  staff  officer  from  G-en'1  Stuart,  who  had  suc- 
ceeded Gren'l  Jackson,  hurried  us  to  the  right  of  the  plank 
road,  and  we  were  immediately  engaged  in  a  terrific  bat- 
tle. Our  brigade  had  faced  the  enemy  and  were  slowly 
advancing,  firing  as  they  advanced.  I  was  within  a  foot 
or  two  of  your  father,  on  his  left,  both  of  us  on  foot,  and 
in  the  line  of  our  men.  Suddenly  I  heard  the  unmis- 
takable blow  of  a  ball,  my  first  thought  being  that  it  had 
struck  a  tree  near  us,  but  in  an  instant  your  father  reeled 
and  fell.  He  at  once  raised  himself,  with  his  arms  ex- 
tended, and  as  I  bent  over  him  to  lift  him  I  understood 
him  to  say,  "Tie  up  my  arm";  and  then,  as  I  thought, 
he  died.     Some  of  our  men  carried  him  off,  and  after 


108  ELISHA  FKANKLIN  PAXTON 

a  while,  being  severely  wounded  myself,  I  went  back, 
passing  his  body  in  an  ambulance. 

The  following  extracts  are  taken  from  the  official  rec- 
ords of  the  Union  and  Confederate  Armies,  Series  I, 
Vol.  XXV,  -  Chancellor sville : 

No.  398,  P.  1006.  Eepokt  of  Beig.-Gen.  E.  E.  Colston, 
C.  S.  Army,  Comdg.  Teimble's  Division 

This  was  a  most  critical  moment.  The  troops  in  the 
breastworks,  belonging  mainly  (I  believe)  to  General 
Pender's  and  General  McGowan's  brigades,  were  almost 
without  ammunition,  and  had  become  mixed  with  each 
other  and  with  the  fragments  of  other  commands.  They 
were  huddled  up  close  to  the  breastworks,  six  and  eight 
deep. 

In  the  meantime,  the  enemy's  line  was  steadily  advanc- 
ing on  our  front  and  right,  almost  without  opposition 
until  I  ordered  the  troops  in  the  breastworks  to  open  fire 
upon  them.  At  this  moment  Paxton's  brigade,  having 
moved  by  the  right  flank  across  the  road,  and  then  by 
the  left  flank  in  line  of  battle,  advanced  toward  the  breast- 
works. Before  reaching  them,  the  gallant  and  lamented 
General  Paxton  fell.  The  command  devolved  upon  Colo- 
nel (J.  H.  S.)  Funk,  Fifth  Virginia  Regiment.  The  brig- 
ade advanced  steadily,  and  the  Second  Brigade  moved  up 
at  the  same  time.  They  opened  fire  upon  the  enemy  and 
drove  them  back  in  confusion.  .  .  . 

I  cannot,  however,  close  this  report  without  mentioning 
more  particularly,  first,  the  names  of  some  of  the  most 
prominent  of  the  gallant  dead.  Paxton,  Garnett  and 
Walker  died  heroically  at  the  head  of  their  brigades. 


MEMOIR  AND  MEMORIALS  109 

No  399,  P.  1012.     Repoet  of  Col.  J.  H.  S.  Funk,  5th 
Va.  Infantry,  Comdg.  Paxton's  Brigade 

I  have  the  honor  of  submitting  the  following  report  of 
Paxton's  brigade  in  the  late  operations  around  Chancel- 
lorsville : 

The  brigade,  under  the  command  of  Brig.-Gen.  E. 
Frank  Paxton,  composed  of  the  Second,  Fourth,  Fifth, 
Twenty- seventh  and  Thirty-third  Virginia  Infantry  Regi- 
ments, left  Camp  Moss  Neck  on  the  morning  of  April  28, 
marching  to  Hamilton's  crossing,  where  we  bivou- 
acked. .  .  . 

On  the  morning  of  May  3  (Sunday)  we  were  aroused  at 
daylight  by  the  firing  of  our  skirmishers,  who  had  thus 
early  engaged  the  enemy.  At  sunrise  the  engagement 
had  become  general,  and  though  not  engaged,  and  occupy- 
ing the  second  line,  the  brigade  suffered  some  loss  from 
the  terrific  shelling  to  which  it  was  exposed. 

At  7  a.m.  we  were  ordered  to  move  across  the  plank 
road  by  the  right  flank  about  three  hundred  yards,  and 
then  by  the  left  flank  until  we  reached  a  hastily  con- 
structed breastwork  thrown  up  by  the  enemy.  At  this 
point  we  found  a  large  number  of  men  of  whom  fear  had 
taken  the  most  absolute  possession.  We  endeavored  to 
persuade  them  to  go  forward,  but  all  we  could  say  was 
of  but  little  avail.  As  soon  as  the  line  was  formed  once 
more,  having  been  somewhat  deranged  by  the  intermin- 
able mass  of  undergrowth  in  the  woods  through  which 
we  passed,  we  moved  forward.  Here  General  Paxton 
fell  while  gallantly  leading  his  troops  to  victory  and 
glory. 

No.  309,  P.  1006.    Repoet  of  Gen.  R.  E.  Lee,  C.  S.  Army, 
Comdg.  Aemy  of  Northern  Virginia.    Sept.  21,  1863 

Many  valuable  officers  and  men  were  killed  or  wounded 
in  the  faithful  discharge  of  duty.     Among  the  former, 


110  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

Brigadier-General  Paxton  fell  while  leading  his  brigade 
with  conspicuous  courage  in  the  assault  on  the  enemy's 
works  at  Chancellor sville.  .  .  . 


Lettee  fkom  A.  C.  Hopkins,  Chaplain  2nd  Va. 
Infey.,  to  Mes.  Paxton 

Near  Richmond,  May  12, 1863. 

In  the  tenderness  and  freshness  of  your  grief,  you  may 
deem  me  an  intruder,  though  I  come  to  sympathize  with 
you.  Esteem  for  your  husband  while  living,  and  regard 
for  his  memory  now  that  he  is  removed  from  earth, 
prompt  me,  a  stranger,  to  send  you  this  letter. 

I  am  a  chaplain  of  his  former  command.  An  attack 
of  typhoid  fever  caused  me  to  be  removed  from  camp 
to  a  kindly  roof  in  the  vicinity  some  six  weeks  ago ;  and 
from  there  I  was  rapidly  hurried  off  from  a  sick-bed  to 
avoid  capture  just  the  day  before  my  admired  General's 
death.  Of  course,  therefore,  I  could  not  be  with  him  on 
that  ill-fated  day,  and  have  nothing  of  his  last  words  to 
send  you  for  comfort.  I  know,  however,  he  died  as  a 
brave,  patriotic  soldier,  whose  home  and  family  are  in- 
vaded and  humiliated  by  an  enemy,  would  prefer  to  die, 
doing  his  duty  for  their  defence.  With  all  this  you  have 
been  made  more  fully  acquainted  than  I  have,  and  there- 
fore I  leave  it. 

I  can  boast  no  claim  to  the  special  confidence  of  your 
husband.  What  I  tell  you,  you  may  have  learned  before 
from  his  own  pen  or  tongue.  But  I  am  assured  that  you 
will  be  much  comforted  to  learn  that  in  every  conversa- 
tion with  me  for  months  past  he  has  given  evidence  of 
very  serious  reflection  on  the  subject  of  religion;  and 
so  great  has  been  his  zeal  in  encouraging  chaplains  in  the 
religious  instruction  of  his  troops,  that  I  am  induced  to 
hope  that  the  blood  of  Christ  had  purchased  his  soul,  and 
he  is  now  among  the  rejoicing  saints  in  light. 


MEMOIE  AND  MEMORIALS  111 

During  my  illness  he  kindly  came  to  see  me  twice,  the 
last  time  but  a  few  days  before  the  battle,  and  each  time 
he  introduced  and  continued  to  speak  on  religious  matters. 
He  always  proved  himself  the  chaplain 's  warm  friend  so 
long  as  he  endeavored  to  promote  the  spiritual  interest 
of  his  regiment  and  proved  faithful  to  his  ministerial 
office. 

Now,  madam,  please  accept  the  tender  sympathies  of 
a  friend,  admirer  and  member  of  your  lamented  hus- 
band's former  command,  although  a  stranger  to  you. 
May  the  great  Comforter  administer  to  you  all  the  con- 
solation which  Heaven  bestows  on  earth,  and  be  so  good 
a  Guide  and  Light  to  your  fatherless  children  as  to  com- 
pensate for  their  great  bereavement.  My  failing  strength 
bids  me  cease.  With  kind  regards  and  tenderest  sym- 
pathies for  you  and  your  mourning  household,  I  am  your 
sincere  friend. 


EXTEACTS  FROM  DlARY  OF  MARGARET  J.  PRESTON 

May  2nd,  1863.    Hear  to-day  of  a  prospective  battle  in 
Culpepper;  everybody  is  anxious. 

Monday,  4th.  .  .  .  Cannon  was  distinctly  heard  by 
many  persons  yesterday;  great  anxiety  prevails  to  hear 
the  tidings;  no  mails  to-day;  we  hear  the  Federal  army 
has  torn  up  some  miles  of  railroad. 

May  5th,  1863.  To-day  brings  news  of  a  terrible  bat- 
tle; no  particulars;  only  that  General  Frank  Paxton  is 
killed,  Jackson  and  A.  P.  Hill  wounded.  Of  the  mothers 
in  this  town,  almost  all  of  them  have  sons  in  this  battle  ; 
not  one  lays  her  head  on  her  pillow  this  night  sure  that 
her  sons  are  not  slain. 

This  suspense  must  be  awful.  Mrs.  Estill  has  four 
sons  there ;  Mrs.  Moore,  two ;  Mrs.  Graham,  three ;  and  so 


112  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

on.  Yet  not  a  word  of  special  news,  except  that  a  copy 
of  General  Lee 's  telegram  came,  saying  a  decided  victory, 
but  at  great  cost.  God  pity  the  tortured  hearts  that  will 
pant  through  this  night !  And  the  agony  of  the  poor  wife 
who  has  heard  that  her  husband  is  really  killed!  I  was 
told  to-night  that  a  few  weeks  ago  General  Paxton  wrote  to 
his  wife,  sending  his  will,  with  minute  directions  in  regard 
to  his  property ;  telling  her  he  had  made  a  profession  of 
religion;  that  he  was  expecting  to  be  killed  in  the  next 
battle,  and  was  resigned  and  willing  to  die. 


CHAPTER  VI 

The  life  of  the  subject  of  this  Memoir  has  been  so  well 
told,  his  character  so  manifested,  by  his  letters,  that 
no  word  of  comment  seems  necessary.  It  is  said  that 
the  thunder  of  the  guns  at  Chancellorsville  was  heard  in 
Lexington;  certainly  it  was  known  that  a  battle  was  im- 
pending. When,  therefore,  the  loving  wife,  who  had 
so  long  in  loneliness  awaited  his  coming,  saw  her  mother 
and  her  aged  pastor  drive  to  her  door,  she  knew  their 
errand  and  fainted  at  the  sight. 

She  survived  him  long  enough  to  implant  in  the  hearts 
of  his  three  sons  a  devotion  to  the  memory  of  their 
scarcely  remembered  father  which  has  been  to  them 
through  life  an  inspiration.  The  growth  of  the  man  dur- 
ing the  period  in  which  these  letters  were  written  is  the 
striking  feature  of  them.  With  great  natural  courage 
and  burning  patriotism  he  went  forth  almost  joyfully  to 
the  conflict.  With  growing  seriousness  he  passed  through 
the  horrors  of  battle  after  battle,  until  we  find  him  in  that 
winter  camp  in  the  Wilderness.  There  his  heart  was 
filled  with  sadness  unutterable  as  he  saw  about  him  all 
the  miseries  of  war.  He  had  in  many  battles  looked 
death  in  the  face  without  fear,  but  now  it  was  death 
looking  him  in  the  face.  His  own  soul-conflict  was  upon 
him,  and  with  his  other  struggles  he  was  wrestling  with 
God.  During  the  two  years  of  service  the  youthful  en- 
thusiasm had  vanished,  and  in  its  place  had  come  heroic 
determination.  The  man  who  wrote  those  last  letters 
would  not  have  turned  one  hair's  breadth  from  the  path 
of  duty  to  have  saved  his  life.  In  that  wilderness  near 
Chancellorsville,  on  the  night  of  May  2,  1863,  there  came 

113 


114  ELISHA  FRANKLIN  PAXTON 

to  him  his  Gethsemane.  To  his  trusted  staff  officer  he 
says,  "I  shall  die  to-morrow."  The  night  is  spent  in 
marching  and  countermarching,  and  daybreak  finds  him 
reading  his  Bible.  This  done,  he  gives  the  command  that 
puts  his  brigade  into  action,  and  takes  his  place  in  the 
center  of  his  brigade,  in  the  line  with  his  men,  a  position 
of  as  great  danger  as  any  in  his  command.  Within  a 
few  minutes,  at  about  seven  o'clock,  the  death-summons 
came,  and  he  fell  to  rise  no  more.  It  was  not  his  to  be 
with  his  men  through  their  glorious  charge  and  victory. 
A  modest  tombstone  in  the  quiet  graveyard  at  Lexington 
marks  his  resting-place,  and  bears  the  simple  inscription : 
"It  is  well  with  thee."  If  to  be  faithful  unto  death,  to 
willingly  lay  down  one's  life  for  an  ideal,  entitles  one 
to  peace  and  rest  in  the  great  hereafter,  then,  Christian 
soldier,  it  is  well  with  thee ! 


